


Just Another Birthday

by sunstarunicorn



Series: It's a Magical Flashpoint [47]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, New Family, new life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-01-03 01:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: Team One is used to facing off with the worst of humanity: the worst of human nature and the worst twenty minutes of people’s lives.  But some things are beyond training, beyond experience.  Some things leave scars forever…





	1. My Own Little World

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the forty-seventh in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Start Again".
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_, _Harry Potter_, _Narnia_, or _Merlin_.

The woman wept as the tan-skinned constable hefted her up off the bloody, battered bed, his face set and his jaw tight with fury. She clung to him as if he was the only anchor she had left; he traded a quick look with his teammates, then carried the broken, sobbing victim out of the room she’d been imprisoned in, not even glancing over at the still, silent body of the woman’s former captor. His boots left a trail of bloody prints as he strode through the small, shabby trailer and out the front door.

Once outside, Constable Young angled towards the ambulance that had arrived while his team cleared the trailer and found their victim – and the dead subject. Blood from both subject and victim was soaking into his uniform, but he didn’t care. No, the only thing he cared about was getting the woman in his arms to the paramedics; she was still crying and clinging to him with every last bit of her remaining strength, her face buried in the nook between his shoulder and head as tears and blood fell in equal measure.

At the ambulance, Young started to let his charge down on the stretcher, only for her to start crying even harder and clutching at him; with their patient half-hysterical, the paramedics opted to let the SRU cop stay with her and settled for coaxing the woman into letting go of her rescuer just enough to be examined and treated. For his part, the constable patiently adjusted his position to half-lean and half-sit on the stretcher, hoping his nearness would keep their victim calm.

“How old are you?” the female paramedic asked gently; her male partner was staying out of their patient’s line of sight after his presence had sent her crawling halfway up her rescuer’s arms again, sobbing in terror.

The newest sob was half-hysteria, half-laughter. “W-W-Wh-What d-d-d-day i-i-i-is i-i-it?” the woman demanded, her grip on Young’s arm tightening so much that the constable winced.

And when the male paramedic piped up with the date, their patient wept/laughed harder. Around her cries, she managed to choke out, “I-It-It’s m-m-my b-b-birthd-d-d-d-day.”

* * * * *

_8759 hours earlier (1 year earlier)_

The woman slipping into yet another store was tall and slim, with classical features, dark brown eyes, and hair so deep brown that it was often mistaken for black. Except for two dangling locks over her high forehead, her mane of hair fell down her back, untamed, but exquisitely kept; it gleamed in the store’s lights. The young woman herself was dressed in high class, if somewhat outdated clothing; as she walked, her demeanor constantly shifted between a natural, inborn confidence and tentative, fearful uncertainty.

In the end, when she worked up the nerve to approach a clerk, she stammered out, “I-I w-w-woul-ld l-like t-to a-apply f-f-for a-a j-j-job.”

Embarrassed, she ducked her head, all but hiding behind her hair as the perky clerk smiled encouragingly at her. “Sure!” the clerk fairly chirped. “You can go to our website and apply online.”

The woman’s face fell even further. “P-Par…p-paper?” she asked hopefully, a silent plea in her eyes.

An apologetic smile/grimace was her reply. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the clerk replied gently, “We don’t do paper applications anymore. Just go online to our site and look under ‘Careers’.”

“Th-thank y-y-you,” the disappointed woman stuttered out before she turned and fled, hiding her tears of sheer frustration.

Once she was on the street again, the woman hugged herself and started walking down the street, hardly even looking around her for any other prospective job targets. Store after store, even the small shops that only sold coffee, had told her to just go ‘online’ and apply at their ‘website’. But she had no idea what they were even _talking_ about. What was ‘online’? Was it some store she hadn’t found yet? An office just for people trying to get jobs? And why would it be in a spider web?

Lisa sniffled, wishing she had the courage to ask her prospective employers those questions…and many others. She huddled up as much as she could, shivering in air that still carried the slight tang of late winter/early spring. People rushed by her on either side, some of them even bumping into her without so much as a simple, brief apology, but she’d already gotten used to that. It was still better than what she’d left behind. Reminding herself that she could hardly go back _now_, the young woman lifted her head, set her jaw, and started looking for another place to stop.

She would ask what ‘online’ was at the next store.

* * * * *

“Oh, we have all our applications online,” the man behind the counter drawled, not even looking up from the device in his hands. One hand released the device to wave lazily in her direction. “Address is on the banner behind you.”

Perplexed, Lisa looked behind her, studying the banner carefully. There weren’t any addresses that _she_ could see, just strings of words. One was very odd and all jumbled together with three ‘w’s and a dot in front of the jumbled word as well as another dot and a ‘com’ after it, but it still wasn’t an address. The young woman turned back and offered up her politest smile; the clerk never glanced up to see it. “W-What’s ‘online’?” she asked, hope and innocence mixing in her voice.

The man’s fingers on his device slowed to a halt and his eyes shifted up to her; he gawped in absolute, utter shock at her. Lisa shifted uncomfortably, her hope fading the longer he stared at her. Unable to think of what she’d done wrong, she tried for another smile. The smile vanished when he laughed at her, a loud, derisive, chortling laugh that drew the attention of practically everyone nearby.

As he doubled over, still laughing, Lisa fled, ducking her head to hide behind her hair again, tears slipping down her face as she hurried out of the store’s environs, flushing a bright, embarrassed scarlet. Her pace didn’t slow until she was several streets away, then she paused long enough to push her hair back out of her eyes. And yet, as she continued down the street, feeling even more bereft and alone than she had before, Lisa still had no idea what she’d done wrong.

* * * * *

Despite her embarrassment and lingering fear, Lisa kept trying, determined to find a job and start making her way in the world. No matter what, no matter how embarrassing it was, whatever lay ahead of her _had_ to be better than what she’d had before. Even so, she decided against approaching any more men; a woman, she was certain, would be more sympathetic and open to her questions.

Accordingly, at the next store, she slipped past a friendly-looking man near the front and approached one of the women working on a display of potted plants. “E-excuse m-me,” she stammered out.

The woman turned, offering her a shopkeep’s smile, crafted to make her feel welcome and in the mood to spend. “Yes? What can I help you with?”

“I-I-I woul-d-d l-l-like t-to a-a-apply f-fo-for a-a j-jo-job,” Lisa managed, resisting the urge to duck her head at her own stuttering.

The shopkeep smile dimmed, but didn’t disappear. “Well, we certainly are hiring,” the woman granted. “You can go online to our website and submit your application on our Careers page.”

Mentally, Lisa gulped. ‘Online’ again? She forced herself to hold the other woman’s gaze as she managed to ask, “Wh-What i-i-is a-a ‘website’?” Even as she spoke, she felt a flush rising, well aware that her ignorance was why she was being laughed at and scorned.

For almost a minute, the store clerk stared at Lisa, almost as if she was expecting Lisa to laugh and make a joke; the young woman’s face went redder and redder the longer the clerk stared, but Lisa refused to run. Not this time. Finally, Lisa forced herself to tilt her head up, petite chin setting into lines that meant she wanted an answer to her question. Now.

Abruptly, the clerk whirled back to her display, completely ignoring the humiliated and beet-red brunette; Lisa stared at the woman’s back in pure dismay, then bowed her head and walked away. As she walked, she heard the clerk’s coworkers join her, one of them asking loudly, “Was she for real?”

“I mean, who doesn’t know what a website is?” another chimed in, derision ringing in every syllable.

The group tittered, then the clerk added, “And did you hear her stammer? Imagine having her ask a customer what they need.”

Lisa’s face burned with shame as a fourth worker jeered, “They’d be out the door before she got her first word out.”

Tears slipped down the brunette’s face and she didn’t bother to hold them back. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this world _was_ worse than the one she’d left behind.

* * * * *

Her feet were aching with overuse by the time she found the small diner, tucked in an out of the way, but surprisingly busy corner of the city. Worn, tired, and utterly discouraged, Lisa slipped into the diner and made her way to the smallest open table she could find, sitting down with a tiny sigh of relief. Her eyes stung with tears, both shed and unshed, and her face still felt like it was on fire. The lonely, desperate woman huddled into herself and rocked back and forth, fighting back her tears; tears never helped, so why bother?

A single tear tracked downwards, drawing a sniff from Lisa; more followed, refusing to obey her silent demands to stop, stop right now! Memories trailed through her mind, jeers rang in her ears, loud as they’d been in real life. Stupid, insipid, worthless. Never done anything right. The tears flowed faster, harder, just like the insults. Good for nothing but to sit and look pretty all day; a caged bird with no voice. Just a baby-making machine for her future husband. A jewel to adorn his arm and parrot his opinions back to him, stroking his ego and preserving the family honor.

Lisa felt her hands come up and she finally gave up and curled in on herself, sobbing for all she was worth.

* * * * *

A hand touched her back, bringing a tear-streaked face up in confusion, surprise, and even a bit of fear to stare at a plump, kindly-looking, white-haired waitress who was peering down at her in concern. Past the waitress, the other patrons were craning their necks, some with concern of their own, but most, Lisa was certain, disgusted with a woman who couldn’t even control her emotions.

The waitress paused, then whipped around, scolding, “Mind your own business,” at the gawkers. “Can’t you see the poor dear needs space?”

“Anne?” one of the gawkers called, “Anything you need help with?”

“Never you mind, Daniel,” ‘Anne’ retorted, hands on her hips. “If I need help, you’d be the _last_ to know.”

There was an immediate roar of laughter in ‘Daniel’s direction, with many of the diner’s patrons teasing their compatriot as they turned back to their conversations and meals. Lisa felt a tiny, involuntary smile tug at her lips as Anne turned back to her. “Now, dear, drink up,” Anne began, placing a mug topped with whipped cream in front of her. “And then we’ll see about getting some food into you.”

Lisa’s budding smile vanished. “I-I-I d-don’t h-have a-a-any g-g-gold,” she whispered, shamefaced.

But Anne simply smiled encouragingly at her. “Never you mind, dear. It’s on the house.”

The waitress bustled away, leaving Lisa with the piping hot mug. After a minute, Lisa pulled it close, gasping as her hands embraced the warmth of the ceramic surface. She closed her eyes, enjoying the heat almost as much as the promise of the warm drink. Then she tipped the mug up, sputtering in shock when her nose hit the whipped cream.

Her face turned beet-red yet again as she let the drink down and fumbled for something to clean the white stuff off her face. A napkin seemed to materialize by her elbow without even a single laugh or jeer and she hastily wiped her face. Once she was clean, Lisa picked up the drink again, careful to start by nibbling the whipped cream off the top before she tried to drink the liquid within. Though her tongue was slightly scalded by the hot chocolate, the warmth in her stomach was more than worth it.

* * * * *

Anne reappeared with a plate piled high with food; she settled it on the table with the ease of long practice, seating herself opposite the young brunette as Lisa examined the plate for a few seconds before she cautiously broke open the bundled knife, fork, and spoon. With exquisite care, token of a lifetime of high class training, Lisa arranged the knife and spoon beside her plate before she leaned forward to eat with swift, dainty bites.

The young woman’s companion merely smiled to herself, humming an old hymn and watching the other patrons as Lisa ate. When the brunette’s hunger was sated, Anne waited politely for Lisa to set down her utensils. “Now what brings a fine young lady like yourself to a place like this?” she inquired, not a trace of condescension or patronization in her voice.

Lisa ducked behind her hair, but the older woman’s kindness had won her a measure of trust. Hesitantly, the young woman whispered, “I-I-I’m l-looking f-for a-a-a jo-job.”

“My, what a coincidence,” Anne exclaimed, “We’ve been looking for a new waitress for some time.” A broad smile adorned the plump, matronly woman’s face. “Seems to be a perfect fit, now doesn’t it?”

“I-I-I d-do-don’t ha-have t-to g-g-go ‘online’?” Lisa asked, a fearful hope dawning on her face.

Anne reached across the table, grasping Lisa’s hand gently. “It’s very hard, isn’t it, to learn how to live in a new world.” Lisa gasped, drawing back. “But you’ll get there, my dear, and no mistake. Now.” She patted her new coworker’s hand. “Let’s get you to the office and you can talk to Gabriel about a job here.”

Tears spilled down Lisa’s face, tears of relief and joy. “T-Th-thank you. Th-thank you s-s-so mu-mu-much!”

The matron chuckled and patted Lisa’s hand again. “You’re quite welcome, my dear. Welcome to Last Chance Diner.”


	2. Angels in Disguise

Gabriel was an imposing mountain of a man, black haired, dark eyed, with shoulders broader than the wine barrel he was hoisting when Anne brought Lisa into diner’s back area. He set the barrel down on top of a stack of other barrels and turned towards the two women, smiling underneath his thick, heavy beard as he brushed his hands off. “Anne,” he greeted, his voice a rumbling bass with rich overtones to it.

“Finished off another barrel, Gabriel?” Anne teased, light blue eyes dancing with suppressed mirth.

“Never I, Anne,” the giant replied solemnly, though a trace of the same mirth glinted in his black eyes. “Our guests have greatly enjoyed the grape tonight.”

“As always,” Anne countered with a slight gesture towards a nearby door. “Do you have a moment?”

“Of course,” Gabriel agreed, nudging the barrel he’d been carrying to a more secure perch. Hands almost as large as the diner’s mugs waved the women towards his office, which proved to be a cozy room with a thick, generous deep blue carpet, a well-built, handsome desk, and three leather office chairs with gleaming silver-hued frames and small, neat black wheels.

Lisa found herself being ushered into the chair closest to the desk by Anne as Gabriel moved around the desk and sat down in his own chair; it squeaked as his weight bore down on it, but bravely held the brawny giant up. The raven leaned forward, tugging one drawer open and reaching inside to pull a packet of paper out. Gabriel frowned as he set the packet down in front of Lisa, then his other hand rummaged in a small drawer for a pen.

“I’ll need to see two forms of identification,” the bass-voiced man informed his newest employee. “But start with that,” he added, handing Lisa the pen and nudging the packet closer to the brunette.

“Y-y-yes, s-s-s-sir,” Lisa acknowledged.

“Gabriel,” the big man corrected at once. “Formal is for ballrooms, not diners.” He winked. “I work for a living.”

The young woman couldn’t help the tiny smile at her new employer’s joke, then she turned her attention to the papers in front of her. A thick, leather-bound book sitting open in a place of honor on the desk caught her eye, but Lisa focused on the application. As she worked her way through the form, Anne departed to return to her post and Gabriel studied the timid young woman, his expression thoughtful.

Lisa paused at a few places, but continued on until she’d filled out as much as she could. When she was done, she looked up at the quiet, patient man on the other side of the desk and pushed the paperwork back towards him. “D-done, s-sir.”

“Gabriel, remember,” came the immediate, but almost playful chide. Large hands, calloused from work, took the pages and reclaimed the pen. Gabriel read through every entry, thoughtfulness gradually shifting into a frown, though it wasn’t directed at his newest employee. As he read, Lisa peeked curiously at the leather book; it was worn with long use, but the leather still shone, as did the gold lining each thin, text-filled page.

When Gabriel was done, he set the application down just as Anne rejoined them. “You will need some work with your numbers,” he observed.

Lisa flushed and ducked behind her long locks; she’d known she hadn’t gotten all the math problems right, but some of them had truly been beyond anything she’d ever been taught.

Anne reached out, capturing Lisa’s hand. “Not to worry, dear,” she soothed, “You’ll pick things up quickly.”

She would? But Father had always called her a stupid, insipid, silly child destined to be a determined flirt who would ruin her family. In none of that had there _ever_ been any sign that she was good for anything, much less these…numbers.

“Ignorance is not a crime,” Gabriel agreed in his deep, booming voice, drawing fearful dark brown orbs up. His gaze was sad, not angry nor condemning. “Anne is right; you can learn. Practice will help to cement what you learn.”

“Yes, sir,” Lisa whispered, for once not stammering.

“I suspect, young one, that you do not even have _one_ form of identification, much less two,” the giant observed shrewdly, watching Lisa flush deep-red with shame; her eyes dropped to her lap once more. “But that is _not_ my greatest concern.”

“Wh-wh-what i-i-i-is?” Lisa stuttered out.

Gabriel shook his head slowly and held out the application. “Where are you living?” One meaty finger tapped the form right where Lisa should have listed her address and contact information. It was blank.

Aside from burying her face in her hands and curling up so she could rock back and forth, Lisa had no answer. After a moment, she felt Anne’s arm come around her shoulders, the older woman soothing her distress with a few calm murmurs of encouragement. “There, there, dear,” Anne murmured, “It’s quite all right. We just have a few more challenges than we expected, don’t we?”

Gabriel chuckled, the sound pulling Lisa’s head up from her huddle, staring at him. He rose from his chair, moving to another corner of the office to pick up a newspaper. Almost before Lisa quite knew what was happening, the newspaper was open on the desk and her new employers were loudly discussing the apartments being advertised for rent, debating the merits of each in a rapid-fire manner that left the lonely, isolated young woman in the dust, slack-jawed that she wasn’t simply being tossed out on the street for being ‘too much trouble’. And utterly astonished that two complete strangers would go to so much time and effort for her.

* * * * *

In the weeks that followed, Lisa’s glowing opinion of her coworker and her boss did not diminish in the slightest. Whether high or low, dressed to the nines or draped in street filth, each customer in Last Chance Diner was treated like royalty. Problems were addressed, solutions served right alongside the diner’s piping hot dishes, each one specially made for their recipient.

Oftentimes, the customers would simply tell her, “Special order,” without even so much as a glance at the menu she brought. And yet, when she would go back to the kitchen, Gabriel would beam and push the plates for earlier customers in her direction. Each ‘special order’ was different and unique, with no two customers receiving the same ‘special order’, no matter how many people she served. And it was always, always, _always_ exactly what the customer wanted. How Gabriel knew, Lisa had no idea…and a part of her didn’t _want_ to know. It would ruin the Diner’s magic, ruin her image of a safe, warm place that had taken her in when she was alone, afraid, and unwanted.

Not that there hadn’t been a few bumps along the road…

* * * * *

_“M-M-May I-I-I t-take y-y-your or-or-order?” Lisa stuttered out, honestly afraid of the men dressed all in black leather, with ink on their arms and more peaking through the vests they wore._

_One of them leaned forward, smiling at her broadly, showing off teeth that were gaped from lost members and three that were gold. “Well, aren’t you a precious one?” he leered._

_His fellows glanced up from their menus, some of the first customers to actually _look_ at the Diner’s menu rather than just tossing the menus back with a muttered, “Special order.” One of them whistled, rising to circle around her as if she was a piece of meat or a filly offered up for his inspection._

_Lisa stiffened, one hand slipping to her opposite forearm before she made herself relax. Anne was here; Gabriel was here. They wouldn’t let her get hurt. The young brunette returned the leering men’s regard with a calm, cool air, tilting her chin up defiantly. The standing one laughed and reached out, pushing her chin even higher; he nearly roared as she jerked her head away from his touch. “Spirited,” he announced. “Don’t let the stutter fool you, boys; this one’s a fighter.”_

_“And not alone,” Anne announced, appearing out of nowhere to shepherd Lisa back and away from the table. “Be off with you!” the plump matronly waitress commanded. “Treat our people with _respect_ or don’t be coming here at all!”_

_Lisa watched with amazement as the big, burly men were cowed and harried out of the Diner by a woman less than half their size. When Anne returned to her side, the brunette forced the words out. “H-H-How d-d-d-do yo-yo-you d-do t-th-that? Th-th-they c-c-could h-hurt y-you.”_

_“Child, if I worried every day about being hurt, I’d forget to live,” Anne replied, her voice gentle as she coaxed her charge towards another table. “Live each day to the fullest, dear, and leave the rest to Him. Now come along, we’ve customers to serve.”_

* * * * *

_Fear surged in Lisa’s heart when she took in why chatter in the normally busy and bustling diner had ground to an absolute halt. A man stood in the entrance, leather practically dripping from him. All black, with steel chains clanking at his waist and on his boots. He strode forward in an unhurried fashion, giving the young woman plenty of time to take in the ink pictures on his bare arms, the dangling mustache on his face, both neat and wildly unkempt, the earring hanging from his left ear, and hard look that seemed to scream that he was not a man to cross. Not if you wanted to live._

_And he was angling for _her_._

_Lisa swallowed, wishing for the ground to swallow her up. Wishing for Gabriel and Anne. And oh, where _were_ they? But the ground did not oblige. And her protectors did not appear as the rough man came to a halt in front of her. He studied her, examining her from head to toe; instinctively, Lisa’s head came up, her chin setting in a stubborn cast._

_“You Lisa?” a hoarse, scratchy voice inquired._

_“Y-Yes,” Lisa replied, doing her best not to stammer._

_“I hear my boys gave you a rough time last night.”_

His_ boys? Not trusting her voice, Lisa merely tilted her chin down._

_And then, to her utter shock, the hard, dangerous man actually reached out, capturing her hand and ever so briefly bowing over it as if he were a knight of old. “My boys know better,” he announced, releasing her hand as he spoke. “They won’t be hasslin’ you no more, my word on it. An’ if they do, you come right to my girl; she’ll set ‘em straight in a hurry.”_

_He fidgeted, a shade of embarrassment lurking in his eyes, and turned to Anne, who’d finally appeared. “Good enough there?” he asked hopefully._

_“Adequate,” Anne decided after a moment, looking the rough man up and down just as he had Lisa. “But tell your boys if they scare her again, it’s a month long ban and no less!”_

_“I’ll tell ‘em,” the man promised, tipping his head to Anne as if she were a queen. “We won’t be scarin’ her no more, Anne; food’s too good to find somewhere else.”_

_Then he was gone and Lisa was left wondering what her coworker’s secret was. How had she managed to get such a dangerous man to _apologize_? And why would she even bother for a girl who wasn’t worth anything anyway?_

* * * * *

The clatter and shattering of dishes was the result of Lisa’s bob in _just_ the wrong direction at the wrong time; the young woman flushed as she ducked down to start cleaning up the mess, humiliated that she just cost her beloved diner revenue by being _clumsy_. Foolish, stupid girl.

She reached out, then hissed and pulled back, blood and a nasty cut adorning her finger, souvenirs of the broken plate she’d just tried to pick up. “Lisa, stop,” Gabriel ordered, drawing her gaze up; she flinched, then saw the broom and dust pan he’d brought with him. He held out the dust pan. “Hold that steady for me,” he instructed as he moved his broom into position. Between the two of them, they had the mess cleaned up in short order, then he ushered his young waitress to the back as Anne hurried past with fresh plates for the customers.

In the back room, Gabriel helped Lisa bandage up her cut finger, drawing a few pained hisses when he cleaned the injury out before smoothing antiseptic over it. “Don’t try to pick up broken plates,” he rumbled, though there was no hint of censure in his voice. “If you must, only pick up the larger pieces and _never_ by the broken side.”

“Y-Yes, s-s-sir,” Lisa whispered, resisting the urge to duck her head. Her boss and coworker had never made fun of her stutter, unlike her family and schoolmates. And truly, she was getting better; why, yesterday, she’d managed to take an entire order without stuttering once!

Gabriel patted her back. “You are still learning,” he remarked. “Learning is not always easy, is it?”

“N-No.”

“You do well with the customers. They understand what it is to be overlooked for small things.”

“N-Not a-a-all of t-them.”

A nod. “But most of them,” Gabriel pointed out, his beard twitching in that way that said he was smiling broadly at her. “Now come, young one. We’ve more customers to serve before the day is over.”

“Y-Yes, G-Ga-Gabriel.”

A boom of delighted laughter. “I knew we would get there,” the giant applauded, opening the door for his young employee. Lisa smiled back shyly and slipped out, determined to finish the work day strong.

After all, Last Chance Diner was very much _her_ last chance.


	3. Stalking Letters

Lisa slipped into the diner, her eyes darting back and forth even behind the diner’s sheltering door. Her entire body trembled and she quickly skittered away from the door, hurrying for the relative safety of the back office. Anne, clearing away the last of the mess from the night prior, frowned and followed her young coworker, concern shining in light blue eyes.

In the back area, she found Lisa on the floor, huddled up so tightly that she resembled a human ball. The brunette shuddered, hugging herself as she rocked back and forth. In one hand, Anne saw a letter. Reaching out, the older woman gently extracted the clear source of the trouble and opened it up, expecting to find terrible news from Lisa’s still unknown family. After all, _surely_ the young woman had _eventually_ gotten in touch with them.

But the typewritten note was about as far from family as it was possible to get.

Wait for me, dear one. Soon I will come for you.

Simple. More like a love note, but Lisa had never mentioned any boyfriends to her. And something about the note sent a chill down Anne’s back. Anne frowned deeply, folding the note and tucking it away in her apron. Then she knelt next to Lisa and pulled the young woman close, rubbing her back. “There, there,” she whispered, “That was an awful shock to have, wasn’t it?”

Lisa nodded, daring to look up. “I-I-It w-w-wa-was o-o-on m-my d-d-do-door th-th-this m-m-morning.”

“Have there been any others?”

Brunette hair flew with the force of Lisa’s negative.

Anne nibbled her lip, considering their best course forward. “I will keep the letter here,” she decided, pretending to be unaware of the gratitude on Lisa’s face. “Gabriel will put it in the store’s safe and if you find more, bring them straight to me.” Her expression turned serious. “Be as wary and cautious as you can, my dear; this is not a matter to be taken lightly.”

“Y-Y-Yes, A-A-An-Anne.”

* * * * *

Anne looked up from her bookkeeping when she heard the diner’s outer door slam shut. Frowning in disapproval – Lisa knew better – she rose from Gabriel’s desk and strode out to speak with her errant coworker. But all scolding died on her tongue when she saw Lisa; the young woman was paler than a ghost and trembling violently as she clutched a white note.

“An-Anne!” Lisa cried, throwing herself towards the older woman.

Anne wrapped the terrified brunette in a hug and guided her back to Gabriel’s office, wishing bitterly that her boss hadn’t just been called away on important business. But he had been and they would just have to muddle through. First things first, though. Once she’d guided Lisa to one of the office’s chairs, she hurried out of the back area and moved with a sure stride to the front door, checking to make sure it was locked. Lisa’s ‘admirer’ would _not_ harm the girl here, of _that_ Anne was utterly determined.

With the front door secure, Anne returned to her charge and moved the other office chair to sit right next to Lisa. “Now, my dear, tell me what happened,” she coaxed, her voice firm with a core of unyielding steel just under the surface.

“I-I-I w-w-was t-t-t-taking a-a-a-a w-w-w-walk l-la-last n-n-night a-af-after w-w-work,” Lisa began, her stutter even more pronounced than usual. Dark eyes closed on unshed tears and she sniffled. “W-W-When I-I-I g-g-got h-ho-home, I-I f-found i-i-i-it.”

Without a word, Anne took the note, smoothing it out on Gabriel’s desk before she opened it.

You are beautiful in the moonlight, my rose.

“Th-Th-The m-m-mo-moon w-was f-f-full l-l-last n-ni-ni-night,” Lisa whispered when her coworker frowned in confusion.

“He was close enough to watch you,” Anne murmured, realization scorching her veins. Close enough to have snatched her, if he’d wanted to. “Was there anyone you saw last night, my dear?”

Lisa considered for a moment, then frowned. “I-I-I w-w-was g-getting c-c-close t-to a-a c-cro-crosswalk w-when a-a m-man c-called t-t-to m-m-me.”

“Was it him?” Anne demanded, her voice sharp.

But Lisa shook her head. “N-No, h-h-he s-sh-showed m-me a-a p-p-picture a-a-and a-a-asked m-me i-if I-I-I’d s-se-seen t-the m-man i-in i-i-it.”

Anne relaxed. “Did he have a uniform on?”

Her charge nodded. “B-B-Black o-on t-t-top, w-w-with g-g-gray p-p-pants,” she stuttered. “H-He s-se-seemed n-ni-nice.”

More than nice, Anne suspected. Likely, the officer’s presence had spared Lisa a close encounter with her ‘admirer’. Silently, she gave thanks for His intervention and prayed that He would make their next steps clear. For now, though…

“Give me the letter, my dear, and I will put it in the safe with the other one,” Anne decided. “And no more midnight walks, Lisa. Not until we have answers.”

“Y-Y-Yes, A-An-An-Anne.”

* * * * *

It was Gabriel who found Lisa clutching the third note; when he found her, she latched onto him and wept until his shirt was soaked with tears. Without a word, he hefted the slender woman and carried her to his office, holding her close until the sobbing died down to hiccups. The giant picked up a glass of water from his desk and coaxed Lisa into drinking it down. Then he produced a handkerchief from one sleeve and handed it to his young employee. Around a last sob, she laughed as she took the token, wiping at her eyes and sniffling.

“There we are,” Gabriel murmured, claiming the note from Lisa. “Now, little one, let us see what your would-be ‘admirer’ has to say this time.”

He scowled down at the white paper even before he opened it; when he did, the scowl reached thunderous heights.

Beloved, I long for your touch. Your smile. Your kindness is wasted on the masses. Come home, my own.

It took an iron effort to keep from crumpling the paper in his hand. The dark-haired man pulled in several deep, steadying breaths before he spoke, his tone level and unhurried. “An unsettling missive, to be sure, young one.” Lisa nodded into his chest. “I am sorry this is happening to you,” Gabriel continued, tipping Lisa’s head up. “What do you wish to do?”

“W-W-What c-c-can I-I d-d-d-do?” Lisa stuttered out, bitterness lurking in her tone. “H-He w-w-will n-not s-s-st-stop.”

“We can take these letters to the police, Lisa. They cannot help you unless you go to them first.”

But the young woman shook her head in refusal, even as she trembled and clung to him. Gabriel sighed and shifted her weight; while he could go behind her back, he much preferred to have _her_ take the lead. She would not grow unless she learned to face life’s challenges head-on. And she wouldn’t grow until she learned to ask for help – something she wouldn’t do until she grew tired of being afraid all the time.

In short, he had to wait for yet another note. He hated waiting – and hated even more that one day, Lisa might not come to work. Silently, he prayed that the young woman would come to her senses. Soon.

* * * * *

Lisa relaxed as she drew close to her apartment door after a long night’s work. She was getting better; she hadn’t dropped one thing all day and she’d even taken four orders without her stammer coming out to play. Best of all, she’d helped a little girl find a stuffed puppy that the child left behind the week before, drying the little one’s tears as she returned from the lost and found with ‘Nippy’ in tow.

A smile crept across the young woman’s face as she remembered how the little girl had seized the puppy, then hugged her as well, calling her the ‘bestest waitress in the whole, entire world’. Then she got close enough to see something taped to her door and froze in her tracks, staring in horror. A sound sent Lisa fleeing for her apartment at top speed, right hand resting on her left forearm. She snatched the note off her door, unlocked the door as quickly as she could, and slammed it behind her as she reached her apartment’s relative safety. Even inside the small suite of rooms, Lisa remained on alert, her hand hovering over her forearm until she’d checked every last nook and cranny in her living space.

The brunette returned to her door and checked the locks, ensuring all of them were engaged. Then she sagged, stifling a whimper of fear as she looked down at the white paper in her hands. She had to open it, she knew. As much as she didn’t want to, she had to know what the note said. Reluctance coated her face as she slowly unrolled the note, dark brown eyes studying it intently, hunting for even the slightest _whiff_ of who the mysterious sender might be.

Beloved, I fear for you. Alone in this cruel world. I will come and we will be safe together. Forever.

She didn’t _want_ this kind of safety, where fear dogged her, right along with the uncertainty of what this person would do next. If they would grow tired of merely taunting her with notes and come for her. Lisa’s chin came up, even as it quivered with her terror, it firmed. She was _done_ being afraid; now it was time to _reclaim_ her life from this…this _shadow_.

* * * * *

Lisa let Anne take the lead; she knew, all too well, how often her stutter ended with her being dismissed without even so much as a hearing. The older woman laid out the four notes Lisa had received over the past two months, her expression expectant as the man behind the desk picked each one up and examined it.

When he looked up, Anne explained, “We’ve been keeping them in the diner’s safe. Lisa’s brought each one straight to me and then into the safe it goes. I realize we should have brought them all right to the station, but I’m afraid that’s water under bridge now.”

She glanced over at her younger companion and Lisa summoned her courage. “I-I-I w-will b-br-bring a-any o-o-others t-t-to y-y-you,” she promised.

“That would be best, Miss…”

“A-Amesbury,” Lisa supplied, waiting for the man’s eyes to widen in shock or surprise. They did not, prompting an internal sigh of relief.

Instead he just nodded, writing down her name on the paper in front of him. He added a few additional notes, then looked up at the waiting women, his expression honestly regretful. “Unfortunately, other than increasing patrols and keeping an eye out for any unusual activity, there’s not all that much we can do.”

“W-What?” Lisa stammered out. “Y-Y-You c-ca-can-n-n-not s-s-stop h-h-him?”

A sorrowful shake of the head was his response. “We don’t even know who this individual _is_, Miss Amesbury. We might get lucky and find his fingerprints off the notes he’s left for you, but unless he’s in the system…” The officer spread his hands helplessly. “And even then, stalking cases are some of the most difficult to investigate and prove in a court of law.” He rose to usher them out of his office. “We’ll do our best to find this man, Miss Amesbury,” he promised, “And we’ll be in touch.”

Less than a minute later, the two women were outside the man’s office, the door closing gently, but firmly behind them. Lisa swallowed her scream of frustration. She needed help, not empty words and even emptier promises.

As if she knew what Lisa was thinking, Anne reached out and grasped her hand. “Never you worry, dear. We will find a way to keep you safe. I must talk with Gabriel and then…then we will all talk and decide on the best way to deal with this man ourselves.”

Lisa trailed after Anne as the older woman marched towards the door. “Y-Y-You m-m-mean, g-go a-after h-h-him o-our-ourselves?”

“Oh, heavens, no,” Anne exclaimed quietly. “Not in the least, my dear.” But what her plan truly was, she refused to say, merely ushering Lisa to her old, battered car and driving them both back to Last Chance Diner.


	4. Favor For an Old Friend

The group was loud and boisterous, flowing into the diner still laughing at one of their members, a short man with dark hair, a ready grin, and a mischievous glint in his eyes. One of the taller men slapped the short man on the back. “Spike,” he announced, “I dread the day you have to do your own laundry, I really do.”

“_Wordy_,” ‘Spike’ whined theatrically, tossing Lisa a wink as he spoke. “You’re cramping my style.”

More laughter from the group and a tan-skinned man quipped, “What style?”

“_Et tu_, Lou?” the short man demanded, staggering back and clutching his chest as if his friend had mortally wounded him; ‘Lou’ sniggered at his friend’s antics.

“Okay, Spike, that’s enough,” the tallest man put in, though there was a glint of wry humor in his eyes. “Let’s not scare the nice waitress.”

Lisa smiled and guided them to a free table, handing each of them menus as they sat down. Done, she left them to peruse the menus; she’d found it was _much_ easier if she avoided talking until her customers were ready to order. The brunette glanced back at the table – the group laughed and bantered back and forth again, exchanging pushes and shoves; they reminded her of her brothers, back when life had been good for her. A wistful smile tugged at her lips and she turned away, burying her sorrow as she had so many times before.

* * * * *

“M-May I-I t-take your o-order?” Lisa inquired; inwardly she cringed at how her stutter had come out to play _right_ when she didn’t want it to. It always _did_ that and at the _worst_ possible times, too.

“Special order,” the tan-skinned Lou replied before any of his friends could speak. He grinned as they all promptly stared at him; Lisa covered her mouth before a laugh could escape.

“Lou?” one of the older members of the group asked, cocking his head to the side in clear curiosity, the movement somehow reminding Lisa of both an inquisitive feline and an investigative bird.

“Guys, trust me,” Lou told his friends. “Just do special order.”

Lisa waited, expecting that one or two of them would follow Lou’s lead while the rest stuck with whatever they’d chosen off the menus. To her everlasting shock, after a swift trade of looks and shrugs, the menus were all passed to the pony-tailed brunette closest to Lisa; she handed them up to the waitress as the older man looked her in the eye. “Make that special order for all of us.”

“Yes, sir,” Lisa acknowledged, still so stunned that she didn’t even realize she hadn’t stuttered. And when she reached Gabriel, he boomed a laugh at the look on her face.

“They trust their friend,” he informed her. “Just as _he_ trusts them.”

“You know him.”

A shake of the head. “Anne knows his mother,” was Gabriel’s only reply before he handed her the plates for another group of customers.

* * * * *

“Hi there.”

Lisa jumped a meter in the air, whirling to face the speaker as she landed, one hand already reaching for her opposite forearm. The man behind her held up both hands, though there was a touch of amusement in his dark eyes. The young woman edged back, wondering if she dared run for the diner’s door and safety…if this was _him_…

“I’m Lou,” the man offered and then she recognized him. The man who’d ordered for all his friends…the man whose mother knew Anne.

“Y-Y-You w-w-were h-here t-to-tonight,” Lisa stammered out. “W-W-With y-y-yo-your f-f-friends.”

He nodded, his shoulders hiking in a bit of a shrug. “My Mom knows Anne,” he explained, subtly gesturing towards the diner. “I’ve met her once or twice, but Mom’s the one who really knows her.”

The pieces fell together. “A-A-An-Anne s-s-set t-this u-u-up?”

“Sorta, yeah,” Lou admitted. “I’m your ride home.”

“F-F-F-For t-t-tonight?”

“Until we get this guy,” Lou corrected firmly.

Lisa started, shocked that he knew about _that_. And curious as to why Lou had said ‘we’.

“O-O-Ok-kay.”

* * * * *

After that, he was there whenever she needed a ride. Sometimes, he would call the night before, his voice tired and exhausted, even as he apologetically explained that she would need to get up earlier than usual for her ride. Once, he didn’t call at all and she found Anne’s battered little sedan waiting for her instead of Lou’s older, but still quite sleek sports car.

“W-W-Where’s L-L-Lou?” Lisa asked, sliding into Anne’s car. Dark eyes darkened even further and Lisa clenched her hands, fingernails digging into her palms.

Anne smiled back at her, serene. “He called me, said he’d been held up at work and would I be willing to pick up the slack for a day or two.”

“W-W-Why?”

The older woman shook her head, sorrow rising. “A friend of his had to shoot someone; he wants to be there for him.”

Had to _shoot_ someone? Who _was_ Lou, that he knew people like that? Was he like that biker and his gang of toughs? The questions shone in Lisa’s eyes, but Anne didn’t answer any of them.

* * * * *

To her surprise, Lisa found a familiar sports car outside the diner that evening, waiting to take her home. “Hi, Lisa,” he greeted as she slipped into his car.

“H-H-Hi, L-L-L-Lou.”

He frowned at her stutter, stronger than ever with her sudden uncertainty. “Something wrong?” he asked, his expression and gaze direct.

Lisa swallowed, then forced her own question out. “H-H-Ho-How’s y-y-your f-f-fri-i-iend?”

“My…” Her words clicked and Lou gulped, looking away as his hands flexed on the steering wheel.

For several breaths they sat, with only Lou’s pained expression and soft pants breaking the silence. Lisa studied his profile, eyes narrowing; he was still hurting over whatever had happened. As if it had struck at the very core of who he _was_ – or maybe been a look at something he feared.

When he spoke, the words rasped in his throat, torn free with agonizing effort. “My boss had to shoot a cop,” he whispered, not glancing at her. “To save a little girl’s life, he had to kill a cop.” Lou’s head came back against his headrest and he stared at the roof of his car, tears glittering. “He was dirty, but he was still a cop.” A bitter hiss, nearly sub vocal. “We’re not _supposed_ to hurt little girls!” Lou’s fist slammed down on his steering wheel; Lisa jumped. “We’re not _supposed_ to _execute_ families in their own homes and _target_ a little girl _just_ because she happens to be the _only_ witness to it!” The tears broke free, trailing down Lou’s cheeks. “We’re not supposed to be what people are afraid of,” he managed, choking on the words.

In a dark car at eleven o’clock at night, Lisa did something she’d never, ever, in a million years expected to do. She reached across and pulled the man in the driver’s seat into her arms, holding him as he cried for the lives that had been ended, the lives that had been shattered forever by protectors gone bad.

When the tears stopped, her request was simple. “T-Tell m-m-me.”

The brunette didn’t even glance at the car’s clock as Lou spoke; her focus remained on him, studying his face and weighing every word he spoke. She listened as he told her about a little girl, caged for her own safety, taught to fear everything and everyone because of what she’d seen, what she _alone_ could testify to. A little girl targeted by a group of former cops, who’d shot her mother and fully intended to kill her…_just_ to save their own skins.

She listened as he told her about a boss who _hated_ to even _give_ the order to kill, much less be the one behind the trigger himself. A boss struggling to reconnect with his son and raise two orphan teenagers; a boss whose greatest strength – and just as greatest weakness – was his empathy, his ability to connect with others, to talk them down and _save_ their lives. The man who’d been forced to kill a fellow cop to save an innocent, terrified child.

Lisa listened as Lou confessed his fear that his boss would slip in the shadow of the day, that he’d slide back into the alcoholism that had destroyed his life and his family over a decade earlier. His fear that he’d lose the team he treasured in the boss’s downfall, in the man’s guilt and grief over permanently losing his son to another man. And when Lou ran out of words, still she listened, cocking her head as night sounds invaded the silence of her friend’s car. Crickets chirped to one another and the city buzzed quietly in the background. Always present, always alive. Something was always happening _somewhere_; it was never _really_ quiet. Not like home.

Her skin tingled, her mind shrieked objections, and fear vibrated in her bones. But her heart refused to listen. No more. She was _not_ alone anymore and _Lou_ was not alone anymore and he trusted her. Trust she wanted…_needed_…to return.

“I-I-I d-di-didn’t a-a-a-al-always s-s-stut-t-ter,” she began. Lou’s head came up, tear tracks shining in the street light as he swung towards her. “M-M-Ma a-a-al-always s-s-said I-I-I w-w-was a-a c-ch-chat-t-terb-box.” She sucked in a gulp of air and focused on each word as she spoke, not letting another start until the last was done. It worked, even if it made her sound slow. “Pa was always gone, for work Ma said. When he was there, it was good. We were always happy with Pa there.”

Lou didn’t speak and when she stole a peek at him, it was like he was holding his breath.

Her own tears welled up. “Then Ma died.” She choked, but forced the next words out. “A-A-And h-h-he w-w-was a-a-al-l-lways t-t-there a-a-and i-i-it w-w-was b-bad.”

“You weren’t happy anymore,” Lou whispered.

A tearful nod. “He was p-proud of m-my b-brothers. Good. Strong. W-Worthy h-h-heirs.” Her eyes slid closed. “I-I-I was s-silly a-a-and flighty. Always,” she brought her fist up to choke back a sob. “Always telling s-s-stories.”

“He hurt you.” It was not a question, but Lisa nodded anyway.

“W-W-Whene-e-ever h-h-he c-caught m-m-me.” Her smile was half-bitter, half-defiant. “I-I-I c-c-couldn’t s-s-stop. T-T-The w-w-worse i-i-it g-g-go-got, t-t-the m-more I-I-I t-t-told t-th-them.”

“Your way out,” Lou concluded, earning another nod.

“I-I-I w-w-wanted a-a-a k-k-kni-ight t-t-to c-come a-and s-s-save m-me,” the grieving woman managed.

“What about your brothers? Didn’t they ever help you?”

Lisa shook her head. “T-T-They w-w-went t-t-to s-s-school. I-I-I’m t-t-the o-o-old-dest.”

“You ran away,” the tan-skinned man murmured. “Ran away and found yourself right in the middle of another mess.”

Even as she cried, Lisa laughed. Lou quirked a half-grin at her, then finally started his car and pulled away from the diner. “Let’s get you home, princess,” he teased.

They never spoke of their conversation again. But after that night, Lisa always made sure to ask about Lou’s team, the two of them sharing a knowing gleam before Lou started to tell her about their day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a quick note, although I was two days late (_mea cupla_, guys; I'm sorry), the 2019 Halloween story, "League of Shadows," is up and available for your reading pleasure.
> 
> Happy Halloween all!


	5. Passage of Time

“W-W-Whe-ere’s L-L-Lou?” Her heart clenched and Lisa ducked into Anne’s car, fixing the older woman with a want, a _need_ to know.

Anne sighed and shook her head. “He’s fine, my dear,” she replied, coaxing her battered car out into traffic. “He called early this morning; his team was at the Museum last night.”

“T-The m-m-mus-seum?”

A slim hand reached out and turned on the radio. Lisa gasped as the announcer’s voice filled the car, describing the tragedy in a solemn, detached voice. Ten deaths. _Ten_ people, gone forever. Lou’s team fought to _save_ lives…how could they handle losing so many? Would this be the day Lou’s boss fell apart? The day _Lou_ fell apart?

_Please. Please. Come back to me in one piece. I can’t lose anything else._

* * * * *

Wrung out. Red eyes and slumped shoulders, bowed with grief and strain. And yet, he was waiting for her, exhaustion lightening at the sight of her. “Hey, girl.”

Lisa smiled back, determined not to let him see her limp relief. “H-He-ey, y-you-ou-s-s-self.”

He grinned, transforming from a weary, struggling soul to her friend. Her protector. “Going my way?”

Laughter rang out and Lisa considered, leaning back in the car seat. “A-A-As l-long a-as y-y-your w-way i-i-is h-h-home w-w-wi-ith a-a s-stop a-a-at m-m-my p-p-place.”

Mischief and mock chagrin gleamed. “I gotta go home, eh?”

Lisa fixed her friend with a challenging stare, narrowing dark eyes and setting slim shoulders.

Lou raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, girl. You drive a hard bargain. Home for both of us it is.”

The brunette beamed, reaching out to rest a hand on Lou’s arm. He inclined his head, appreciating her silent offer to listen and respectfully turning it down in the single gesture. The rest of the drive was the comfortable silence of friends.

* * * * *

Lisa picked up the phone on its third ring, wary caution shimmering in dark eyes. “H-Hello?”

“Hey, girl.”

Caution melted into a smile. “L-Lou!”

“We got tonight off and I know you’re not on at the diner until day after tomorrow. Want to go ice-skating?”

The smile dropped away. “I-I-I…”

“Never been, girl?”

“N-N-No, I-I h-have, b-b-but…” The words refused to come, the shame of failures past and the scorn for being inept at yet _another_ worthy skill.

“Want to try again?” Tentative, with a smidge of challenge.

_No._ “W-W-Well, I-I g-g-gue-es-s-ss…”

* * * * *

Lisa gasped, her hands flailing for her steady, unflappable anchor. He laughed and slipped sideways to grab her shoulders, keeping her upright on the ice. “Take it slow, girl; it’s not a race. Bend your knees more and keep your feet further apart.”

The brunette squeaked, shaking her head fiercely. Longing for the solid ground nearby shone and she cast Lou a pleading expression.

“One more time around, then we’ll get off, okay, girl?”

“O-Okay.”

Lou hovered right next to her, coaching her through each push and stroke. “You’re getting it, girl,” he praised. “That’s it, let the skates do the work. No, don’t push down with your toes!”

Lisa yelped as the skates dug hard into the ice and she fell forwards. Hands yanked her sideways, but her rescuer lost his own balance and the pair tumbled to the ice. Lisa cringed – how _stupid_ of her, silly, foolish girl!

Lou’s laughter rang out, drawing wide dark eyes up. He wasn’t mad at her? He was…laughing?

“Wow, girl, you don’t do things halfway, do you?” As he spoke, Lou adjusted his position and glanced over his shoulder at the rink’s exit. “Come on, Lis, I think we’ve been out here long enough.”

_Lis?_

Still chuckling, Lou made his way back to his feet and hauled Lisa upright. “Okay, girl, push, but don’t let the front of the skates hit the ice. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

Slim lips curled in a smile and Lisa focused on keeping herself upright as she and her friend skated towards the exit.

* * * * *

“Lisa.”

Lisa turned away from her first pair of customers, concern and surprise freckling her face. “A-Anne?”

Anne smiled past her at the couple. “I do apologize, but I need to steal your waitress away for a moment. Special order?”

The man inclined his head without speaking, a glint of disapproval in light blue eyes. Stern features hardened, sharp lines and creases appearing. Next to him, a woman peeked up, too submissive to do anything save mirror her companion. Even so, sympathy bled through in the slight softening in the corners of her eyes.

The brunette followed her coworker to the back area, tension rising. Not fear…she would _not_ call it fear until Anne spoke. Tremors vibrated her hands in spite of her determination. The white-haired woman closed the door, ensuring no one could overhear her. A breath. “Lewis called me just now.”

“L-L-L-Lou? I-I-Is s-somet-t-thing-g-g w-wro-o-ong?”

Anne nodded, sorrow and grief draping her small, plump form. “I’m afraid so, my dear. Lewis has told you about his team?”

“Y-Y-Yes.”

“His boss’s niece was taken to the hospital this morning,” Anne explained. “They do not yet know what is wrong, but I fear this will be no small thing, Lisa. Lewis will need you, almost more than _you_ need him. Until we know more, Lou has asked me to drive you to and from the diner.”

“S-So h-h-he c-c-can h-help h-his f-f-fri-i-iends?”

“Just so, my dear.”

Lisa shifted back, thinking over the news. “Y-Y-You w-w-will t-tell m-me w-w-when h-h-he c-c-c-calls?”

Anne reached out, taking Lisa’s hand and patting it, her approval shining. “I will, my dear, I will.”

* * * * *

A brain aneurysm. “W-What i-i-is t-t-that? C-Could s-s-she die?” _No, please, no._ If the girl died, Lou’s boss would be devastated. _Lou_ would be devastated. Could Lou’s beloved team survive that?

“The swift treatment prevented her death,” Anne replied. “But she is still in a coma and no one knows when she might wake or if she has suffered brain damage.”

Confusion glittered in dark eyes.

Anne sighed to herself. “She may not be who she was before. Or she might be, but be unable to live as she once did. Paralysis. Slurred speech. A crippled body or a crippled mind. Perhaps both.”

Lisa gasped, hands rising and cupping her mouth.

* * * * *

A sports car lurked in their usual spot and Lisa hurried to it, ducking into the front seat and looking up into eyes that screamed despair. The young woman reached out, wrapping her hand around his wrist and squeezing.

“H-H-How i-i-is s-she?”

Lou grimaced, fresh pain darting across worn features. “She woke up today, but she’s not responding to anyone, not even the Boss or her brother.” Lost. Afraid. Already grieving.

“D-Don-n-n’t.”

A blink. “Don’t what, girl?”

Lisa drew in a breath, ordered her words. “Don’t give up,” she said, slow, but sure. “She is young. Strong. Give her time.”

“But what if she’s like this the rest of her life?”

That was easy. “L-L-Love h-her. D-D-Don’t l-let h-h-her d-d-doubt i-i-it.” Another deep breath. “Don’t let her give up.”

Silence hung, scarcely broken by the city noise and Lou’s sharp inhale. Lisa met her friend’s gaze, _willing_ him to hear her, _willing_ him to stand strong and believe. Lou’s eyes trawled downwards, his frame slumping.

Lisa steeled herself and reached out with her free hand, tipping Lou’s chin up. “D-D-Don-n-n’t g-g-gri-i-ieve. S-S-She’s a-alive. T-T-The r-r-rest w-w-w-will c-c-come.”

His grip on her hand shifted and tightened, as though she was his only lifeline. Tears brimmed in deep brown eyes, forced back by sheer willpower and a masculine refusal to cry in front of witnesses, even a sole, sympathetic one.

“Thanks.” A single word, in a hoarse rasp, torn from the depths.

The brunette smiled and pretended not to notice that Lou didn’t release his grip until they’d arrived at her apartment. Then he hurried around to pull her door open and hand her out, guiding her up the steps and to the elevator.

When the pair reached Lisa’s apartment, she hesitated, considering. Then she turned towards her friend. Her protector. “D-D-Don’t l-l-lo-oose h-h-hope.”

A grin tugged at the very corner of his mouth. “I know better than that, Lis. You’d just scold me until I picked that hope back up.”

“Yes,” Lisa confirmed.

* * * * *

The young woman glanced up at her next customer, yelping in surprise as she was picked up and spun around the new arrival. He was laughing and crying at the same time, shaking with the effort of keeping his voice down. “She’s all right! She’s coming home!”

Joy surged and Lisa laughed, pulling free and dragging Lou into the back room where Anne was finishing up some paperwork for Gabriel. “A-A-Anne!”

The elder woman looked up from her work, celeste eyes sparkling. “Good news, my dears?”

“The best,” Lou replied. “Alanna’s coming home in a few days.” Excitement dimmed. “One more surgery, then she’s home free.”

“A-A-Another?” Lisa asked. Wasn’t _one_ surgery enough? “I-I-Is s-s-somet-t-thing e-e-else w-wrong?”

Her friend grimaced, moving his hand in a see-saw motion. “Just…something that never came back after the aneurysm. They’re gonna fix that, so ‘Lanna can go home.”

Though Lisa didn’t _entirely_ understand, she smiled up at her friend, twining her fingers with his. Anne beamed at both of them, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Lewis, why don’t you take Lisa out for an early lunch,” she proposed. “Have a bit of a celebration.”

“B-But…”

“Go on, dear,” Anne reassured her coworker. “I’ll handle the customers until you get back.”

There was no arguing with _that_ gleam in Anne’s eyes. Lisa inclined her head and let Lou pull her out, his joy and relief spilling out into another twirl that left the brunette strangely breathless.

* * * * *

Ragged loss and grief awaited her, coupled with enough second guessing and ‘what if’ing to drive her father mad. Lisa grasped the top of the sports car, easing herself down into the seat in lieu of her usual slide.

“You all right, girl?” Fresh worry and concern, ringing loud and overriding the cares of the day.

The brunette waited until she was down and the door was safely closed to reply. “A-A c-c-customer d-d-didn-n-n’t s-s-see m-m-me a-as h-h-he c-came o-o-out o-o-of t-t-the r-r-res-str-r-room.”

Lou grimaced. “Knocked you down?”

A jerky nod. “H-H-He w-w-was b-b-big. H-Heavy.”

And unwashed, but she couldn’t find the words to tell Lou how it had felt. Slimy. Disgusting. Trapped. Oh, she’d been so relieved when Gabriel yanked the customer off her, pulling his sour breath and wandering hands away from her. Grateful when Anne helped her up and guided her into the back area, away from the man. Even as she’d limped away, she felt the man’s eyes on her, slavering for a denied delicacy.

Though she couldn’t find the words, Lou read her expression, jaw muscles twitching, eyes narrowing. His head swung away from her, the car’s engine roaring to life and thrusting them forward and out onto the road. As he drove, she studied him, noting nearly white knuckles around the steering wheel and pain that seeped through his watchful scan of every other vehicle.

“W-W-Wh-h-h-ha-a-a-at h-h-hap-p-pen-n-ned t-to-d-d-day?” The brunette bit back a grimace; her stutter worsened with stress and pain…could Lou even _understand_ her garbled words?

His hands clenched harder, wetness gleamed, and her friend sniffed, pushing the sorrow away. “Spike. His mentor…he went bad…helped a guy escape…”

Oh, _no_. “Y-Y-You s-s-stop-p-ped h-h-him?”

The steering wheel creaked with the force of Lou’s grip. “We were too late. He died protecting the guy from his own family.”

_What?_ Lisa frowned, trying to sort through the jumble. “Y-Y-Your fr-r-riend’s m-mentor d-d-d-ied?”

A jerk of Lou’s chin, but no response.

The brunette drew in a careful breath. Spoke slowly and clearly. “He died protecting someone from another?”

Another jerk.

“He…regretted hurting your friend?”

Wide dark eyes swung towards her, away. “Yeah, actually. He…” Lou trailed off, grimacing. “He went bad a while back, got in debt with a drug dealer trying to keep his wife alive and get his daughter off drugs…”

The car slewed into a turn onto a windy road with several turnoffs and roundabouts, the better, Lisa knew, to shake anyone trying to follow them. Lou released his knuckle-tight grip on the wheel long enough to glance over his shoulder, then returned his attention to the road, curving around the first roundabout and slingshotting them away from both her apartment and the diner.

“Today, the drug dealer made a deal with Mac – Spike’s mentor – to free one of his guys, but it was a ruse.”

“A-A-A r-ruse?”

Lou shook his head, pain and remembered fury flashing. “The dealer just wanted to kill the guy before he could talk. When Mac realized that, he stepped in, got the guy away and protected him till we got there.”

“B-But h-h-he d-d-died?”

Raw outrage and agony slid towards her, pulled back. “Yeah, girl, Mac died. Asked Spike to look after his daughter for him.”

“W-W-Wi-i-i-ll h-h-he?”

The vehicle dipped downwards, flying down one slope and up the next. Before responding, her friend glanced over his shoulder again, then snapped, “Call dispatch.”

_What?_

“Calling dispatch.” The voice was emotionless and came from beside her; Lisa’s eyes fell on a long rectangular device, its screen glowing.

A ring rose, followed by a click and a crisp, “911, what is your emergency?”

“This is Constable Lewis Young, badge number 1902. I have a suspicious vehicle tailing me: beige four door sedan, no front license plate, male Caucasian driver. He’s been following me since I picked a friend up to give her a ride home.”

“Officer Young, are you requesting backup?”

“If I could get a patrol car to intersect my route and take a look at this guy, that’d be great. I’m off-duty and I’m not carrying right now.”

“Copy that, Officer; patrol car enroute. I’ll stay with you until they get there.”

Lisa kept quiet as Lou wove through a maze of streets, the car behind them determinedly keeping pace with each bob and turn. The promised patrol car materialized, its lights and siren wailing; Lou slowed, but the sedan darted right, with the new arrival on its heels.

“Dispatch, they get him?”

_Oh, please say yes, please say yes,_ Lisa pleaded, her hope undeniable – her friend winked, his confidence blazing.

The moments hung, ticking by with agonizing tension; the young woman leaned towards the phone. _Please…please…_

Finally, “I’m sorry, Constable. Patrol lost him.”

“Copy.” Disappointment rang loud. “Thanks for your help, Dispatch.”

“Any time, Team One.”

Two sets of brows shot up and twin dark eyes met. Between them, the phone clicked off. Then Lou shook his head and laughed. “Talk about a small world there, girl.”

“Y-Y-Yes.”

* * * * *

Lisa gasped in delight, pulling free from Lou so she could run forward to the next exhibit. The skeletal creature towered over the pair, proud and free. A bony frill adorned the creature’s head, which sported three horns and a beak-like mouth. “W-W-What’s-s-s t-that?”

“Triceratops,” Lou replied, strolling up to join the young woman. He pointed to a sign next to the creature’s front feet. “Hard to believe it just ate grass and leaves.”

“Y-Yeah.” Lisa stared upwards into the empty eye sockets, wishing she could’ve seen it alive. Wild and free. After a minute, she turned towards her friend. “D-Do t-t-they h-have a-a-anyt-t-thing h-h-here t-that’s n-n-not d-dead?”

Lou blinked at her phrasing, then quirked a grin. “I think I know what you mean, Lis.” He proffered his arm. “Maybe in the traveling exhibit, but if they don’t, we can ask.” He paused, glancing back at the dinosaurs. “Part of me wants to see ‘em alive,” Lou admitted. “But then we’d probably be running for our lives.”

Lisa giggled at the mental image. “O-Or y-y-you c-could t-t-tame o-one,” she suggested.

He jostled her shoulder. “Nah, Lis, I’ll leave that to you. You’d have ‘em tamed in no time flat.”

The brunette flushed bright red, glancing up at her escort and wondering why her heart was beating faster all of a sudden. Particularly when Lou winked at her.

* * * * *

Lisa skittered back inside the diner; two _hours_ after her shift and Lou still hadn’t arrived. Worse, she’d seen a shadow near their usual spot and didn’t _dare_ go out to look for her friend again. Tears glimmered…she’d _known_ this would happen, sooner or later. He was tired of protecting her, tired of putting up with her stutter, tired of _her_.

Anne glanced up from her position, frowning and moving in her slow, yet swift way to Lisa’s side. “He has not come yet, my dear?”

“N-N-N-No, A-A-A-An-n-n-ne.” The sobs built up…how could he do this to her? And without any warning?

The door slammed; both women whirled. Lewis Young was framed by the city lights and the moonlight, the expression on his face one of indescribable loss. His shoulders shook, tears fell unchecked down his face, and he hugged himself, as if trying to contain the emotions bursting out.

Lisa reached him just as his knees gave out and he slid down the inside of the diner’s door. He grabbed her, pulling her close and crying into her hair; she stilled, unsure of _how_ to help, but determined to wait as long as he needed her to. Pants and sobs assaulted her ears, but she simply remained in her place, adjusting so she could run one hand through his hair, offering what small comfort she could.

Time passed; grief wracked her protector; Anne returned to her tasks, while still remaining close enough to observe her charges. At length, the sobbing ebbed, but Lou still clung to her, much as _she_ sometimes clung to _him_.

Whatever had happened, it was no time for her stutter. Lisa measured each word, letting them out slowly. “Who died?” It could be nothing else, nothing _else_ would shatter her friend like this. Nothing else would hurt him _this_ much.

“Lance…he got his license today and…and we were gonna have a birthday party…and he was just… He just wanted to cruise, enjoy the moment… He was just a kid…” Lou’s explanation dissolved in renewed tears and another tight cling to Lisa.

But Lisa understood nonetheless. A boy no older than her brothers was gone…gone forever. Someone her friend considered _family_ was dead. The young woman adjusted her position enough to be comfortable and leaned her head into Lou’s shoulder, letting him cry and mourn for his ‘nephew’.

Neither noticed the sorrowful, but knowing gleam in Anne’s eyes. Nor the exact same gleam in Gabriel’s eyes when he hefted both of them out of the doorway and to his office with no effort or strain at all.

* * * * *

He was late again; Lisa’s heart clenched. Had someone _else_ died on her friend? It wasn’t _fair_…Lou shouldn’t lose two family members in less than a month! But no, _there_ he was, pulling in close to the diner, tired, sore, but, as always, faithful in his protection.

The brunette hurried to the car and slipped inside. Lou pulled out, not even waiting for her to buckle up. “L-Lou?”

“Sorry, girl, not taking any chances. Not today.”

Puzzled, Lisa focused on her seat belt, waiting until she heard it _click_ to give her protector a querying look. “W-What h-h-happened?”

The vehicle beneath them turned left, gliding down on a route Lisa had never seen before. Lou shook his head. “Well, girl, it’s been one of those days. First the evals were lousy, then Ed went and got himself _shot_.”

_Shot?_ “I-Is h-h-he o-o-k-kay?”

“He was wearing his vest, so…” Her friend swallowed, a shadow in his eyes. Lightness, forced and wedged into his words. “…coulda been worse, Lis. He’ll be okay. And Sophie had a little girl, so Ed’ll have some time with them before he comes back to work.”

Although Lisa was _quite_ sure Lou was downplaying the worst of the day’s events, she knew better than to push. Some things were just too hurtful and private to be shared so soon. “H-H-How’s y-your b-b-b-boss?”

“My…boss…?”

Understanding glowed and the car slowed, slipping right and into a handy parking lot. Lou didn’t reply until he’d parked and gathered his wits. Lisa cocked her head to the side at her friend’s unusual behavior, but waited, patient and sure he would tell her.

“We, uh, we didn’t find out for a week, but Lance didn’t die in the car accident.”

“_What?!?_” Lisa blurted, so shocked and stunned she forgot to stutter.

“Yeah, girl, that’s about what _our_ reaction was. There was this woman who saw the accident and she decided to kidnap Lance after she rescued him. Roy ‘n’ Giles caught her, but, um, Lance was still in pretty bad shape, so Sarge asked us to keep quiet until he’d recovered a bit.”

Lisa felt Lou’s eyes on her, anxious, pleading for her forgiveness and pardon for keeping secrets. Her insides felt jumbled – indignation that he hadn’t _trusted_ her churning. A flicker of respect that he’d kept quiet for his boss’s sake. Jealousy. Honorable, respectable, discreet…everything her father valued. Everything she _wasn’t_. The young woman’s stomach twisted, daggers of anger jabbing her heart, right along with shame and guilt. Lou was _better_ than she could _ever_ be…how could she compound her disgrace by being _angry_ with him?

So she forced a smile on her face, reassuring her friend that she understood…she wasn’t angry with him…even as that anger bubbled and simmered just under the surface.

* * * * *

“Hey, girl.”

Lisa slipped into the sports car, grateful to see her friend’s wry grin; rarer than desert snow of late. “H-Hi L-Lou.”

For a moment, the two locked eyes, Lou’s grin spreading wider. The brunette cocked her head, a glint of expectation showing. Then Lou’s hand came up, displaying a pair of cards. “I’ve got tomorrow off, Lis; want to go catch a movie?”

“M-M-Movie?”

Her friend winked. “Never been?”

Lisa ducked her head, flushing. What would Lou think of her?

Enthusiasm dimmed. “For real, Lis? You’ve _never_ been to a movie?”

“N-N-N-N-No…”

After a second, Lou snapped his fingers, dragging Lisa’s red-soaked countenance up. “Well then, Lis, we’ll just have to fix that.”

_Fix that?_ The young woman blinked, startled when the two cards were pushed into her grasp. Dark eyes trailed down, examining the blocky letters. “M-Mis-ssion I-Impos-sible, G-G-Ghost P-Prot-tocol? W-What’s t-t-that?”

A renewed grin flashed at her. “You’ll see.”

* * * * *

Lisa clutched Lou’s arm, letting him guide her as they made their way through the crowd of people inside the movie theater. Food scents wafted through the air from the direction of their apparent goal, a long counter with several glass display cases, drink machines, and odd, box-like machines producing yellow kernels of popcorn at an astonishing rate.

Lou settled into line, confidence radiating, a self-assurance Lisa imitated as best she could. Once they reached the front, Lou rattled off their order. “I’d like two large sodas and a bucket of popcorn.”

The brunette gawped at the size of the bucket, filled to overflowing with buttery popcorn; Lou had to nudge her and carry their drinks until Lisa recovered enough to hold their snack with one arm and clutch her drink with the other hand. Lou chuckled and detached himself from Lisa long enough to grab straws for their drinks. Thus armed, the pair made their way to the auditorium and found seats.

* * * * *

The commercials were loud enough to send Lisa fleeing behind Lou’s bulk, seeking relief from the excessive volume. She cringed, anticipating that the movie would be _just_ as bad, but, to her profound relief, the movie itself held to far more…sedate…volume levels. The young woman wanted to ask her protector about the difference and even opened her mouth, but Lou gestured for silence, tilting his head at the screen towering over them.

Lisa obediently turned her attention upwards, gasping at the opening murder.

* * * * *

Chatter rose around the couple as they made their way through the theater and out towards Lou’s car. Rather than shout, Lou waited until they were in the open air to ask, “What’d you think, Lis?”

“D-D-Do t-t-they a-all e-end l-l-like t-that?”

“Nah,” Lou replied. “That’d get pretty dull.” He paused, considering. “Your stories…do they all end the same way?”

Lisa flushed, ducking her head. “S-Somet-t-times.”

Aside from a sympathetic glance, Lou didn’t push any farther. “Movies are stories, Lis. Big, great, live-action stories, but still _stories_. All of ‘em are different _somehow_, that’s what keeps people comin’ and paying for tickets.”

The brunette nodded thoughtfully, snagging the last few kernels of popcorn out of the bucket.

Lou slipped the bucket away and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “So, Lis, you want to do this again sometime?”

Lisa cocked her head. “D-Do I-I g-g-get t-to c-c-chose t-the n-next o-o-one?”

The tan-skinned man threw his head back and laughed. “Sure thing, girl. Sure thing.”

* * * * *

Anne came out of Gabriel’s office a few minutes before the end of Lisa’s shift and gestured her coworker over. Lisa set the check down in front of her current customers and left them to hurry to Anne’s side. “A-Anne?”

“I’m afraid I’ll be driving you home today, my dear.”

“W-Wh-hat-t’s-s w-wrong?”

The plump, motherly woman shook her head. “Lou did not say. He only called long enough to ask me to drive you and then hung up.”

Lisa’s insides clenched, but she bobbed her head obediently and trailed back to her customers. Fear and anger churned in equal measure…how could he abandon her like this? How _could_ he put his team above _her_? What was wrong _this_ time? Had someone died…really died? Had a member of Lou’s team shot someone? Had _Lou_ shot someone? And if he _had_…

_What about me? What happens to me now?_

* * * * *

“Roy got shot.”

“R-Roy?” Had this Roy just joined Lou’s team?

Lou scrubbed a hand through his buzzcut. “Roy and his partner work with us sometimes,” he explained. “They’re not Team One, but they’re as good as.”

Lisa bobbed her head, watching Lou closely.

“Today, Roy’s girlfriend took him hostage. We sorta know why, but…” The tan-skinned man grimaced. “…it really doesn’t make any sense.”

“B-But i-it m-m-made s-sens-se t-to h-h-her?”

“Must’ve, Lis, or she wouldn’t’ve done it.” Jaw muscles flexed, right along with Lou’s fists. “She shot him, Lis, point-blank range, right under his heart.”

Lisa gasped, her hands covering her mouth. “H-He d-d-d-died?”

“Not yet.”

_What?_

Lou’s eyes lowered, sorrow glinting at the corners of his eyes. “He’s in a coma, Lis. But I was _there_, girl…he was dying. If he wakes up…” Water flew from her friend’s violent head shake.

“Y-You d-d-don’t t-t-think h-he will, d-d-do you?”

Lou did not reply.

* * * * *

The first hint Lisa had was the sight of Anne’s ancient, battered car waiting for her. She hurried to the vehicle and slipped in, eyes wide and slim jaw setting. Her chin tilted up, a defiant jut to her posture.

The older woman focused on the road, guiding her sedan through the maze of early morning traffic. “Lou’s team has been arrested.”

“_A-Arres-sted?!?_”

But Anne could tell her nothing more, so Lisa sat and worried for her friend.

_Please, Lou, come back to me. I can’t lose anyone else._

* * * * *

Days passed with no word from her protector. Her friend. With each day, guilt drowned out her anger…how _could_ she be angry when her _Lou_ was in such dire straits. Eagerly, Lisa dug through every newspaper, hunting for any scrap that might hint at what was happening. Nothing. She still had no idea how Anne had even _known_ about the arrest, but the older woman’s calm irritated the younger. Lou was in _jail_, he was in _danger_, and Anne wasn’t _worried_?

_Don’t leave me alone, Lou. Please._

* * * * *

The end of another work day and still no news of her Lou. Lisa sniffled to herself, dashing hints of water away from her eyes. Anne joined her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Have faith, my dear. Truth will out in the end, no matter how much darkness might try to stifle it.”

“B-But w-w-where _i-is_ he?”

Anne smiled at her, as calm and confident as always. Motherly and matronly and oh so _infuriating_.

“Hey, Lis.”

She whipped around. “_Lou!_”

He caught her lunge, her arms slipping around his neck and hugging with all her might. Lisa’s head tucked under Lou’s chin, tears streaming down her face. “I gotcha, girl,” he whispered. “I gotcha.”

“D-Do-on-n’t l-leave m-me.” The words were so soft he shouldn’t have heard them.

“Do my best, Lis.” A mere murmur, stretching no further than the pair of them.

It was over an hour before Lisa allowed Lou to take her home. Behind the couple, Anne and Gabriel quietly beamed.

* * * * *

Lisa hefted the last box out of the black truck Lou had brought with him to finish her discreet, stealth move from her old apartment to a new one. It was farther from the diner, but in what her friends called ‘a better part of town’. The black truck had first appeared with Lou well over a month and a half earlier, but Lou hadn’t started to move her things until the week prior – and he’d done it as backhandedly as possible, moving only what Lisa absolutely couldn’t afford to lose. She really couldn’t afford to lose the furniture she was leaving behind either, but between Lou, his team, and her employers, her new apartment already had enough furniture to replace everything she was losing in the latest endeavour to leave her stalker in the dust.

Two months ago, she’d found another note on her door and she hadn’t even opened it, taking it right to Lou the next morning. She never had made it into work that day…

* * * * *

_Lou pulled his car into the parking garage for a building she’d never even seen before, much less been inside of. Once parked, he hurried around to her door and let her out, shadowing her even as he guided her inside and through an atrium to a desk with a pretty, dark-skinned woman with long, curly hair behind the counter. She looked up at their footsteps, recognizing Lisa’s guide at once. “Lou!” she greeted. Then a teasing smile touched her mouth. “New girlfriend?”_

_Lisa flushed, but her guide just chuckled. “Just a friend,” he replied. “Lisa, this is Winnie. Winnie, Lisa.”_

_“Hi there,” Winnie greeted, turning her smile towards Lisa._

_“H-Hello,” the brunette stammered._

_Lou’s expression turned serious. “Winnie, could you keep an eye on Lisa while I go change into my uniform? And let Sarge know I’m gonna be late.”_

_“Late?”_

_But Lou had already hurried away; when he came back, he was clad in a black and gray uniform with a positively deadly look in his dark eyes. And he didn’t take Lisa back to his car – instead he took her to a massive black truck, boosting her up into the passenger seat before stalking around to the driver’s side and nearly squealing the tires as he pulled out._

* * * * *

_Lisa might’ve had to scramble to keep up, but Lou was utterly intent on keeping her in his line of sight as he pointed her towards an office she recognized. She tried to stammer out that it was no good, no use, but Lou didn’t even glance at her._

_Lou shoved the door open roughly and the detective behind the desk looked up from his phone, an annoyed expression on his face. The annoyance vanished as he took in Lou’s uniform. “Constable, what can I do for you?”_

_The note was slapped down on the desk. “You can take a look at that and add it to Lisa Amesbury’s file,” Lou growled. “See if you can ID this guy before he leaves another note – or escalates.”_

_Before picking up the note, the detective slipped on a pair of blue gloves. “When was this left?”_

_Lou glanced back at Lisa, his expression expectant; the detective’s eyes lifted to her, surprise flashing across his face. She swallowed, but replied, “L-L-Last n-n-n-night.”_

_A nod acknowledged her words, then the man opened up the note, frowning at the missive within. “Constable, you’re playing a dangerous game with this man,” he announced without looking up._

_“I’m not playing with him,” Lou snapped. “I’m making sure he can’t snatch Lisa while she walks home from work.”_

_“Your presence is escalating things,” the detective countered. “_You_ are making this worse.”_

_“Then do your job and catch him,” Lou retorted. “ ‘Cause I’m not stopping.”_

_“If you won’t stop, then move her,” came the rather dismissive reply as the detective turned away from them._

_“Was already planning on it, thanks.”_

_Lisa found herself outside the office, looking up at her protector in confusion. “Move?”_

_He nodded grimly. “Time to see if we can lose him, buy this idiot more time to catch him.”_

* * * * *

“Lisa, you got it?” Lou called, appearing in the doorway as she approached with the final box.

“R-Right h-h-here,” Lisa replied, hefting the object in her arms.

“Perfect,” her friend exclaimed, taking the heavy box from her and vanishing back through her new front door.

Lisa was grateful he’d left so quickly; their hands had touched, sending a shiver of…something…up her spine. She ducked her head to hide her budding tears. He was such a good man. He deserved a princess, but she wasn’t one. She was a silly girl, with a stutter, stories, no future, and a stalker following her every movement. He deserved someone who would understand him, who could comfort him when his job threatened to overwhelm him, but she was just a foolish, high-strung filly, useful only as a brood mare.

Then his voice drifted back. “Lisa, come on! Or I decide where your knick-knacks go!”

“N-No!” she cried, hurrying through her door. “D-D-Don’t p-p-put t-t-the c-c-cat b-b-by t-the d-d-dog! O-O-Or t-t-the b-bird-b-bath!”

He roared with laughter.

* * * * *

Lisa smiled as she walked towards her apartment, a spring in her step and a glow in her mind. Anne had let slip that her birthday was next week and Lou, ever the gentleman, had promised her a night to remember. He’d even bowed over her hand, his eyes glittering with laughter as he asked her out to dinner. Like a knight in shining armor. Or…at least a shining car…

Then she drew closer to her door and froze. Letters were written across the door, spray-painted on the door and the neighboring walls.

Honey, I’m Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, I can't do the full effect on those last two words (or the stalker notes), but if ya'll would like to see how it looks in my Word document...
> 
> For the stalker notes from the prior two chapters, which I've centered and left on paragraphs of their own, copy 'em to Word and change the font to Courier New. For the spray painted words (above), change the font to Chiller and increase the size to 22.


	6. Cry in the Night

Lisa smiled broadly as she picked up the plump angel figure; the angel smiled kindly down at the birds and animals that had come to feed from her basket. It was perfect for Anne – and the final gift on her list. She’d found gifts for all her friends; though she knew perfectly well that _she_ was the one who was supposed to get gifts on her birthday, she’d decided to do things a bit…differently…and get gifts for the people who’d taken her in and given her so much more than she’d ever had in her life before.

The young woman took her choice to the register, watching in fascination as the clerk took the figurine back to the shelf before retrieving a box from the back; it would, Lisa knew, have an _exact_ copy of the plump, gentle angel inside. Paying for her purchase, Lisa pulled up the hood of her coat and hurried out the door, eager to find a taxi and get home.

Lou hadn’t been happy when she told him not to pick her up, but she’d promised him that she wouldn’t take risks. That she would hail as many cabs as it took to stay out of trouble, but she needed to get out and do a few things for herself. He’d acquiesced…then promptly checked her phone and made _his_ number speed dial one. Right before they parted, Lisa screwed up her nerve and kissed his cheek – then fled before he could respond.

One finger drifted up, touching her lips; she smiled absently and moved forward to hail the nearest cab. Her hand lifted…

* * * * *

The cold air against her skin woke her; she shivered automatically and tried to huddle up – only to be brought to a halt by a tug against her wrists. Confused, Lisa looked up; her vision blurred as she struggled to focus. Slowly, achingly, what she was staring at came together, the two images becoming one; rope, tied around her wrists. The other ends were tied to the bed posts of the bed she was on; a bed with only a mattress and top sheet. There were no pillows, no blankets, and no bedspread. Only her.

She curled towards the posts, shivering harder as the air struck her bare skin. All her bare skin. It was difficult to maneuver close enough to the bed posts so that she could hug herself, curling as tightly as possible, but she managed nonetheless, burning hot with fear and shame; Lisa whimpered softly, looking around the room. The room was empty, save for the bed; she could see ragged carpet on the floor and even more ragged curtains covering the small window set above her head.

“H-H-Help m-m-me,” she cried; her throat stung, so parched and raw that she wondered if she’d been screaming.

“Hello, beloved.”

She whirled, her eyes widening in shock. _He_ was there, standing in front of her, as real as life. Instinctively, she curled ever tighter, trembling in horrified terror. He didn’t seem to notice, his smile was wide and eager as he entered the room, stepping into what little light there was.

He was Lou’s height, but much lighter skinned. Almost as pale as a ghost. His wispy red hair was just as ragged as his carpet and his belly was so large that Lisa cringed; then his smell struck her and it became a fight to keep from reeling and exposing herself. His face was huge, small, pale eyes sunken in the folds of his skin and ears sticking out like a puppet’s.

“L-L-Leave m-m-me a-a-alone.”

A meaty hand grabbed her closest arm and Lisa fought to keep her arms in place as he pulled. “At last we are alone, beloved,” he murmured, pulling her up and kissing her; she squirmed, but couldn’t get away. “I thought the guests would never leave.”

“G-G-Guests?” The question slipped out without thought.

He laughed, his sour breath hitting her like a sledgehammer, right to her delicate nose. “Of course, beloved. Don’t you remember?” One hand snaked around her back, pulling her even close to him; she clawed at him, but it did nothing – when Lisa stole a look down, she saw her nails had been cut to their nubs, leaving her defenseless. No, no, no. “The ceremony was beautiful,” he exclaimed, eyes distant even as he fondled her, touching places _no one_ was supposed to touch – except her husband. “And you looked so beautiful in your gown, beloved. So very, very beautiful.”

“L-L-Let m-m-me g-g-g-go!”

He kissed her again, freeing her right hand from the ropes. “We will be happy here, beloved,” he whispered, stroking her face, her hair; she shuddered at his touch. “So very, very happy.”

Then he was on her; she screamed and fought, but it did her no good. He didn’t stop. And no one came to help her.

She was alone.

* * * * *

Blood. She could smell it, knew it was hers. He’d been angry at her for fighting, angry when she screamed for help and refused to stop. Even her stutters couldn’t stop her, but his back fist to her face did. Her whimpers of pain just made him angrier, but the pain wasn’t stopping.

Lisa cried out again as his knife caressed her skin, leaving a trail of blood up her left arm. “P-P-Please s-s-stop,” she begged.

“Could’ve been happy,” he muttered furiously. “I would have cherished you forever, beloved. Made you happy, made you safe. Raised our children together.”

She trembled with fear and exhaustion, but stared at him in astonished dismay. “I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry,” the brunette whispered, mentally pleading for it to stop. Please, just let it stop. Let it be over.

The knife slashed across her chest, biting deep; she screamed and he grabbed her, hauling her in so close that she nearly choked on his breath. “You will be, beloved. You will be.”

He let go of her arm and she curled in on herself, still crying and sobbing. Then her hand touched something; her eyes widened in shock – he hadn’t taken it. _He hadn’t taken it!_ Lisa looked up at him, hate curdling in her belly, fear and rage mixing as she grasped what the _fool_ hadn’t taken from her.

She screamed as she came around, the weapon in her hand cutting into him before he could grab her. He wasn’t touching her again. Not _ever_.

And when he was still, she curled in on herself and wept, blood and tears mixing as they flowed down to the stained bed underneath her.

* * * * *

Team One was about ready to roll out on their latest warrant when Lou’s phone rang; his Sergeant frowned as he turned to reprimand the constable – if that had happened during the _takedown_… “Lewis…”

But Lou’s expression was confused as he stared down at the number. He lifted the phone, clicking the call on. “Constable Young speaking.”

A second later, the color drained from Lou’s face and he whirled towards Spike, hissing, “Trace it!” Then he brought the phone down and tapped the speaker button. “Lisa, can you hear me?”

“L-L-Lou?”

“I’m here, girl, I’m here.”

Even on the phone, Greg could hear the desperation in the woman’s voice. “H-H-Help m-m-m-me, p-p-p-please.”

“Keep talking to me, Lisa,” Lou urged, his team dead-silent save for the clicking of the laptop Spike had managed to produce literally moments after Lou’s hissed order. “What can you see?”

A broken sob. “_H-H-Him!_”

The swear words on the tip of Lou’s tongue were all swallowed down. “Can you hear anything?” he coaxed.

“H-H-Hel-l-lp m-m-me,” Lisa begged again.

“Lis, we gotta find you, keep on talkin’ to me. Let my man Spike get a lock on your phone.”

“H-H-Hurts,” came the soft whimper.

Alarm blazed on every face and Greg whipped towards his team leader, his hands flying in a series of brisk orders. Even as Eddie disappeared, the Sergeant’s attention shifted to his bomb tech. “Spike,” he ordered, keeping his voice as low as possible.

“East,” the raven hissed. “If he can keep her talking, I can narrow it down…”

A nod and Parker’s hands snapped out more orders to his team, sending Wordy, Sam, and Jules to the trucks even as gryphon hearing caught Ed’s rapid-fire explanation to Winnie and demand for standby EMS.

“Lis, don’t look at him,” Lou coached in the background. “Tell me about your brothers. Just keep talking to me.”

Spike abruptly snatched up his laptop and hustled for the trucks; his teammates followed at a run. “Spike?” Greg called as they ran.

“Down to thirty blocks, Boss,” Spike called back. “I can finish in the truck.”

“Lou, keep talking to her,” Parker ordered, thrusting the call’s defacto negotiator towards the back seat of Wordy’s truck. He swung himself up into the passenger seat and pulled his radio off his belt, tuning it to pick up Lisa’s every shaking, terrified word. The Sergeant frowned; Lou hadn’t buckled himself in – his constable’s complete focus was on his phone and the victim on the other end.

“Come on, Lis, tell me about your brothers. They’re younger than you, right?”

“Y-Y-Yes…”

“Which one of them is the oldest?” Lou coaxed.

Before Lisa could respond, the Sergeant heard a faint beeping sound from the other end of the phone; he stiffened – Lisa’s phone was running out of power. “L-L-L-Lou, i-i-it’s m-m-mak-king s-s-soun-n-nd! W-W-What’s h-hap-p-p-pen-ning?”

“Running out of power,” Greg hissed at the confusion on Lou’s face; the constable’s expression turned desperate even as his Sergeant directed his next words to his comm. “Spike, tell me you got something.”

“Ten blocks, Boss,” Spike replied at once. “Just a little longer, buddy.”

Lou’s jaw firmed. “Lis, keep talking to me,” he ordered. “Tell me about your oldest brother.”

“A-A-Alex?”

“Yeah, girl. Tell me about Alex. How old is he?”

“H-H-Hurts, L-L-Lou.”

Pain twisted Lou’s face and his boss prayed they’d get there in time. “I know, I know,” Lou whispered. “Come on, Lis, keep hanging on; we’re coming, I promise.”

“P-P-Promise?”

A tear slipped down without Lou noticing. “Lisa, tell me about Alex,” he coached. “You’re doing great; tell me about your brother. How old is he?”

“F-F-Fif-f-fteen,” Lisa stammered out, her voice fading.

“Okay, he’s fifteen,” Lou acknowledged. “Come on, Lis, stay with me. I bet he’s smart, like his big sister.”

“F-F-Fat-t-ther l-l-loves h-h-him m-m-most, b-b-but h-h-h-he w-w-wants t-to b-b-be l-l-like y-y-you.”

“He wants to be a cop? Good for him. Bet he misses you, Lis.” More tears were falling and Greg knew; Lou loved her – he was being forced to listen to the woman he loved fade away. Forced to listen to her afraid and in pain, forced to rely on his teammates to do the heavy lifting – all Lou could do was talk.

His constable tended to be private; it hadn’t been until Lisa got the fifth note that Team One even found out about Lou giving her rides to and from work. Not even Spike had known about the rides and _he_ was Lou’s best friend! And when he’d told the team about what was going on, the constable downplayed everything except the dangerous situation Lisa was in; he’d passed Lisa off as a friend and her coworker as a friend of his mother’s. When had friendship become something more?

In the background, the trucks’ sirens howled and wailed, racing east to get to a woman who desperately needed help and medical attention. And inside the truck, Greg Parker watched Lewis Young’s face as the latter struggled to keep that woman awake and talking. “Lis, keep talking to me,” he pleaded. “Hold on, we’re coming for you, girl. We’re gonna get you out of there, I promise. And you can tell me all about Alex and all about your other brothers. Stay with me, Lis.”

“H-H-Hurts.”

“I know, but it’s almost over,” Lou promised. “Just stay with me a little longer.”

“Got her!” Spike yelled triumphantly. “Boss, I’m sending the address to your phone.”

“Spike, where do I turn?” Wordy demanded.

Parker shook his head. “Keep going straight, Wordy,” he ordered before Spike could speak. “It’s a trailer park right on the border between East York and the East End.”

“Copy.” Wordy’s voice was fierce and angry; he rammed down even harder on the truck’s accelerator, pushing the vehicle’s limits as he flew through nighttime traffic. Behind them, the other two trucks increased their own speed and the sirens seemed to scream even louder.

* * * * *

“SRU, hands in the air!”

“SRU!”

“Police Strategic Response Unit! Weapons on the ground!”

“Police, show us your hands, show us your hands!”

The trailer was dank and dingy; it stank as if its owner hadn’t bothered to clean it in years, but the officers hardly cared as they cleared the filthy rooms, piled high with trash and dishes alike. Wordy nearly shot a tape recorder as it started to bark, playing back sounds of vicious, angry dogs; with an ugly look, the constable shoved the device off its stand, smirking as it fell to the ground and shattered.

Room by room, they cleared the trailer, finding no sign of either their victim or the trailer’s owner. Then Lou entered one final room and froze in horror. For a long moment, he couldn’t get his throat to work. Then he called, “Got ‘em! Someone find a blanket! Jules, get over here!”

Rather than using anything inside the dilapidated, likely disease-ridden trailer, Spike scrambled back outside, racing to the trucks for one of the space blankets the team always had, just in case; he snatched up the packet and hustled back to the dingy trailer, hurling himself up the steps and back inside. The bomb tech reached the rest of his team in seconds, passing the packet in his hands to Jules.

The team’s backup negotiator ducked inside the room, understanding why Lou had barred entry to everyone except her in less than a second. Aside from a swift glance at the fallen – and deceased – subject, Jules focused on the pale, bloody, and shivering woman on the bed. “Lisa? Lisa, my name is Jules; I’m with the Police Strategic Response Unit.”

“L-L-Lou…?”

Jules unwrapped the space blanket as she hurried to the injured woman’s side. She swept the blanket out and around Lisa’s shoulders, pulling it closed as much as possible before she turned her attention to the rope around their victim’s left wrist. “He’s right outside, Lisa,” she soothed. “Do you want him in here?”

A sob, coupled with a frantic nod.

“Okay,” the other woman breathed. Louder, “Lou, I’ve got her covered up; she wants you in here.”

“Copy.” A strangled noise was in her teammate’s reply; his voice shook even as he strained to stay professional.

Jules stayed by the bed as two of her male teammates entered – Lou and Ed; Ed immediately moved to the subject, his gun covering the man even though he was utterly still and lay in a pool of blood. Grimly, the team leader knelt, flipping the body over to cuff it. “Subject secured,” he reported, fury lurking in the depths of his voice.

Lou angled straight for Lisa; she reached for him, sobbing with fear, relief, and a thousand other emotions. Even as he returned her embrace, Lou adjusted the space blanket to protect the traumatized woman’s modesty as much as he could. Then he jerked in surprise and reached back, one hand briefly covering Lisa’s as he removed something from her grasp. She didn’t seem to notice as she clung to her chosen protector, burying her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck.

With his free hand, Lou held out the weapon Lisa had used to stop her attacker, his expression grim. Jules sucked in a gasp as she took it carefully, taking note of the blood adorning their victim’s cherished treasure. Lou looked down at what he’d given his teammate before he hefted their victim up off the bed. A smooth, elmwood wand with blood embedded in its bark-like handle rested in Jules’ hands…which could only mean one thing.

Lisa was a witch.


	7. Protecting Its Sanity

Lisa wept as the tan-skinned constable hefted her up off the bloody, battered bed, his face set and his jaw tight with fury. She clung to him as if he was the only anchor she had left; he traded a quick look with his teammates, then carried the broken, sobbing victim out of the room she’d been imprisoned in, not even glancing over at the still, silent body of the woman’s former captor. His boots left a trail of bloody prints as he strode through the small, shabby trailer and out the front door. Without even breaking stride, he moved down the steps, careful to keep his burden from getting jolted by the up and down movements.

Once outside, Constable Young angled towards the ambulance that had arrived while his team cleared the trailer and found their victim – and the dead subject. Blood from both subject and victim was soaking into his uniform, but he didn’t care. No, the only thing he cared about was getting the woman in his arms to the paramedics; she was still crying and clinging to him with every last bit of her remaining strength, her face buried in the nook between his shoulder and head as tears and blood fell in equal measure. He’d failed her so badly – he never should’ve let her go out shopping by herself. This was all _his_ fault.

At the ambulance, Lewis started to let his charge down on the stretcher, only for her to start crying even harder and clutching at him; with their patient half-hysterical, the paramedics opted to let the SRU cop stay with her and settled for coaxing the woman into letting go of her rescuer just enough to be examined and treated. It took nearly ten minutes to get Lisa to the point that she was content to just keep her hand locked around Lou’s wrist, minutes in which blood continued to flow from her many wounds. Lou grimaced at the delay, but patiently adjusted his position enough to half-lean and half-sit on the stretcher, hoping his nearness would continue to be enough to keep her calm.

“How old are you?” the female paramedic questioned gently; her male partner was staying out of their patient’s line of sight after his presence had nearly sent her crawling halfway up her rescuer’s arms again, sobbing in terror; though he looked nothing like the dead subject, his hair was so red it gleamed in the small lamps dotting the trailer park.

The newest cry was half-hysteria, half-laughter. “W-W-Wh-What d-d-d-day i-i-i-is i-i-it?” the woman demanded, her grip on Young’s arm tightening so much that the constable winced involuntarily.

Behind the stretcher, the male paramedic piped up with the date and Lisa just sobbed/laughed harder. Around her cries, she managed to choke out, “I-It-It’s m-m-my b-b-birthd-d-d-d-day.”

Lou looked up at the sky, struggling to keep back his tears. He’d promised to give her a birthday to remember, but this most _decidedly_ was _not_ what he’d had in mind. And for a moment, he wished the subject was still alive – so he could strangle the man himself.

* * * * *

Greg throttled a burgeoning fury in his gut, rising from the gryphon’s realization that a prospective member of _his_ Pride had been _attacked_, violated in the worst way possible. To the gryphon, Lou’s attraction to Lisa was enough to trigger its protective instincts. Greg’s human side mourned the loss of the young woman’s innocence; his gryphon side burned with fury, screeching for vengeance it would never get.

Although gryphons had prides, much like lions, a gryphon pride was typically comprised of multiple breeding pairs, not just one. The reason for that was simple: gryphons mated for life in an intricate ritual that put most _human_ dating habits to shame. To take an unwilling mate was anathema, unforgivable, and it was just as well for the subject that he was dead and beyond the livid gryphon’s reach.

More than that, as the negotiator inspected the contents of the _only_ neat and tidy room in the entire trailer, his gryphon side was seething; pictures of _several_ young women dotted the walls and a stack of file boxes lurked in one corner of the room, each of them marked with a year and more names than Greg could casually count – all female. Dreading what he’d find, Greg nevertheless opened up the top box, scowling at the folders within. The folders were plain, unmarked, but when Greg pulled the first one out and eased it open, he found photos. Copies of typewritten notes. Even pictures of graffiti sprayed on various doors.

“Did you know?”

Eddie. Without looking up, Greg replied, “No, Ed, I did _not_. But it doesn’t matter anyway; it’s not against regs for Lou to date a civilian.”

“It is against regs for him to date someone we help on a hot call,” Ed retorted.

The Sergeant shook his head. “Doesn’t apply here and you know it, Eddie. We weren’t working Lisa’s stalker case; Lou was just giving her rides home.” He looked up from the file in his hands. “Until tonight, Lisa was a waitress we’d all met once or twice and a friend of Lou’s. That is it. If Toth tries to make hay out of this one, I’ll fight him; Lou didn’t do anything wrong and neither did we. She needed help; it’s our _job_ to help her.”

It took a moment for Ed to back down, then he nodded sharply in agreement. Then he moved into the room. “What do you got?”

“Files going back at least six years and pictures of four young women, only one of whom is Lisa.”

The team leader frowned, inspecting the walls. “He was stalking multiple victims at once?”

“That’s what it looks like, Eddie,” Greg replied, regret shining. “One mistake – that’s all it took. But I’d say he’s been getting frustrated with Lisa’s constant protection for awhile.” He pointed to a page that had been ripped out of a notebook and pinned to the wall with a dart.

Ed whistled as he read it over: a vicious screed against Lou and Lisa’s coworkers at Last Chance Diner. “Could he have gone after Lou?” the sniper asked.

“Doubt it,” Greg mumbled without looking up from his latest file. “You saw him, Eddie; he was angry, but he knew Lou could take him apart in seconds – that’s why he waited until Lisa was alone.”

The two men worked in silence after that; Greg continued to look through the files, his expression going graver and graver with each additional entry, and Ed prowled the office, scrutinizing the walls and searching for more clues. Then he spied a roll in the corner; a cardboard tube used to protect large documents during transit. He pulled it out and opened the top, pulling the contents out and spreading them out on the nearly spartan desk. He took one look at his find. “Greg.”

Parker glanced up from his reading, then moved to his team leader’s side, peering over his shoulder at what Lane had found. Ed’s finger moved on the surface, indicating several locations. “Oh my gawd,” Parker whispered, fresh horror in his face and voice. “Their graves.”

“Stalks ‘em, ‘marries’ ‘em, then, when they fight back, he kills ‘em,” Ed summed up.

“And then he buries them in unmarked graves,” the Sergeant finished softly. “The final insult. He’s the only one who knows where they are; the only one who ever visits.”

“Not anymore,” the team leader remarked, his eyes a steely light blue. “Now _we_ know where they are. We can bring them home.”

It wasn’t enough…it never would be… But it was something.

* * * * *

Lisa was starting to calm down, though the rape kit had sent her scrambling into Lou’s arms again. She still clung to the constable as if he was her only anchor left in the world, but she no longer held his wrist in a vice grip. And the female paramedic had managed to get the young woman into a hospital type gown that her coworker dug up in the ambulance, giving Lisa back a bit of her modesty. Fortunately, with the exception of the slash across her chest, Lisa’s injuries were superficial, bleeding enough to make her appear to be at death’s door, but not deep enough to cause permanent injury. The final slash would need stitches, but, as far as Lou was concerned, it could’ve been so, so much worse.

Judging by the female paramedic’s grimace as she inspected the rape kit’s preliminary results, Lisa probably wouldn’t agree with Lou’s assessment, but she was _alive_. That was precious all by itself. She was scarred – in more ways than just the obvious – but she’d _survived_. The constable kept his free arm around Lisa’s shoulders, pretending it was more for her than him, but that was a lie; she was _alive_ and she was safe in his arms and her attacker would _never_ hurt her again.

Had it really only been yesterday morning when she’d kissed him? On the cheek, but it had been more than enough to make his heart soar with hope. She was so far out of his league it wasn’t even funny; smart, charming, with an innate kindness that couldn’t be taught. That night, she’d been afraid, but she’d still asked him how his ‘friend’ was – and listening had been the best gift she could’ve given him. Just listening, letting him get out the pain and festering fears in a _safe_ place. Lou was pretty sure that was when he’d started falling in love with her.

All the times since then, when she’d let him vent, supporting him through the team’s best and worst moments. The days off when he took her to new places, watching her experience _life_…he’d wondered, so many times, why she’d never been to a museum, never been to a movie… Heck, she was better ‘n Giles at the whole tech thing; the Auror _still_ hadn’t let Roy drag him off to the movies or any other ‘tech’ places, but Lis had been looking _forward_ to the aquarium. Real live animals and she’d been thrilled with the idea of seeing the dolphin show.

He’d spent days planning out the dinner they’d never have – the gift he’d still give her. A place for her stories, a place to keep them safe and let her create more. Lou swallowed hard, feeling again the spurt of shock and despair when he’d found her wand; she was magical…what was a simple Muggle against the magical world? She was going to find a good man – with magic – and he’d never see her again. It would be better for her; she wouldn’t have to struggle to live in _his_ world any more, longing for silence the city would never have.

“Heir Amesbury.” Lewis Young jolted in renewed shock, his eyes wide as they swept to a newly arrived Giles Onasi; the Auror was alone, his expression grave as he took in the injured woman clinging to Lou with fresh fear.

“N-N-No,” Lisa whispered; Lou suppressed a new wince as Lisa’s grip tightened on his wrist once more. “P-P-Pl-l-lease, y-y-you c-c-can’t. Y-Y-You c-c-can’t t-t-te-ell F-F-F-Fat-t-ther w-w-w-where I-I-I-I a-a-am.”

The Auror knelt right next to the stretcher, looking up at Lisa with a sad, understanding expression. “He will not find out where you are from me, my lady; my word of honor on it.” As Lisa drew in a shaky breath, Giles added, “But what of your brothers, milady? Shall I show you the reports they have filed, the times they’ve come to us, begging us to search harder for you?”

Lisa’s head turned into Lou’s chest as she wept, but she didn’t respond to Onasi’s coaxing.

“Giles, not now,” Lou intervened. “She’s in no shape to do anything right now; she needs to be in a hospital.” One brow cocked in silent question.

The Auror shook his head mutely and Lou understood. If Lisa was taken to St. Mungo’s, her father would find her.

Softly, almost under his breath, Lou breathed, “Pureblood?”

Another shake of the head. “Like me,” Giles muttered back, his voice so low that Lisa’s cries kept Lou from really hearing; only his intent gaze on his fellow Auror allowed him to read Giles’ lips.

Half-blood then. Lou raised his voice, keeping it steady with an effort. “You’re taking over?”

“Over the case,” Giles agreed bleakly. “You stay with her, Constable Young; your team can brief me about what you lot found when you got here.”

“Copy that,” Lewis whispered, his gaze falling to the beautiful, impossible woman in his arms. He loved her – and she could never know.

And somehow, that was the worst tragedy of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has been enjoying this story thus far. I do have some RL news to share. I've been told by my manager that I and another employee will be released from our current project at the end of this month. This is good news, because for quite some time, we've had minimal work and I've almost filled up an entire three subject notebook with handwritten notes/rough draft chapters for this series (it is not as impressive as it sounds since I've been using this notebook since I started at this project a year and a half ago).
> 
> On the flip side, although I do not think we will be on bench for long (if at all), I have some upcoming doctor's appointments in December/January that I really can't reschedule. Almost all of them are yearly appointments and my health must come before the job. This would be no problem at all with my current manager, but right now, I feel like the guy who starts a new job and immediately asks for time off. Not exactly the best first impression.
> 
> For those of you who are willing, please pray both for my last two weeks at this current project and for what comes next in December. I particularly need prayer for next Thursday, because from what I was told last night, I will need to arrive at work at 9 AM as usual, then go home sometime before 4 PM so that I can be immediately available from 4 PM to midnight for the new website/software that is rolling into production. Unless something changes, that's going to be a very long day and I'm still not sure what exactly my responsibilities will be.
> 
> Thank you all and please remember: Reviews are gold, but prayers are diamonds.
> 
> Aslan Bless!


	8. Epilogue

She found the letter in the diner’s back room, laid on top of Gabriel’s beautiful, treasured leather-bound book. Two feathers adorned the letter, edged with gold, perfect, and unique. One was ebony, with bronze ‘veins’; it reminded her of Gabriel, large, yet somehow gentle and supportive, just like the giant of a man. The other was pure white, exactly like Anne’s hair, and ‘veined’ with a silver almost as white as the feather itself. Though smaller than the other, when Lisa touched it, she could tell that it was ‘plumper’ than the ebony feather, with a softer edge, Anne in a nutshell.

The young woman turned at a noise, but it was just Lewis, his eyes concerned as he looked around the office. “No one here except us, Lis,” he reported, one hand sneaking down to where his gun should’ve been. “You want me to call it in?”

“I found a letter,” Lisa replied, slipping the letter out from under the feathers. Her stutter was gone, as if she’d used it up for a lifetime _that_ night. The hospital had been dreadfully lonely, especially since neither Gabriel nor Anne had come to visit; she’d even sent Lou to check on the diner, only for him to come back with a report that Last Chance Diner was closed. She’d wept in Lou’s arms at the news, pathetically grateful that he was willing to put up with such a crybaby.

When the doctors had come in, pressing her to take a drug to ‘keep her from getting pregnant’, she’d refused. Vehemently. As hard as it would be, she was going to face each and every consequence of _that_ night. No take backs. Not to mention, she’d seen Lou flinch away from the doctors, panic racing across his face at the very _idea_ of killing a baby born of rape.

In the end, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t pregnant; _his_ seed hadn’t taken. Lisa gave thanks for that yet again in her heart of hearts; for _Lou_, she’d been willing to endure the nightmare of having _his_ child, but without her protector, her knight, she probably would’ve taken those drugs. The young woman focused back on the letter in front of her, opening it carefully.

_“My dear,_

_Your mother is so proud of you right now; you’ve taken your first steps into a world she loves with all her heart and you’ve found a good man to walk with in your journey. It will be hard, my dear, harder than it is right now, but His plan is always for good._

_He does not intend for you to live in that man’s shadow all your life, but you must make the first choice. The choice to leave what happened in the past and embrace the rest of your life with all your might. It is not a choice you must make alone, my dear. Ask and He will answer. He has already answered; your mother and grandmother pray for you, even now, my dear._

_We must away, my dear, but you are not alone. You have your fine young man beside you; let him be your strength, even as you become his helpmeet. His support and his voice of reason; we were never meant to walk alone and our strength is greater together, just as He makes it greater still with His presence. You have the friends you’ve made in this past year; let them catch you whenever your heart falters._

_In Gabriel’s desk, you will find the keys to the diner; it is yours now, my dear. Let it become a haven for those in need of just one more chance; you know more than you think about how to help each soul who comes through the door. Gabriel has taken the liberty of finding three more employees to work under you; let them help you find your feet in these first few weeks._

_Two last things, my dear. First, just around the corner, towards the second star to the right, there is a gateway. Use it as you will, child. And second, your brothers miss you. I’m certain your fine young man could reach out to them on your behalf. You are still the Heir to your House, something I know means little to you now. It will mean more in time, my dear._

_Aslan Bless, Daughter of Eve, and may the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea grant you treasure without measure._

_Anne”_

Lisa reached out blindly, feeling Lou’s fingers twine with hers as she gripped his hand tightly. Almost without seeing, she turned to the leather-bound book, pushing it open. It fell open, to a page Gabriel had clearly been to many times before. The brunette witch saw part of the text had been underlined and she leaned closer, eager for one last look at what her dearest friends had left her.

_Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. _ ** (1) **

She gasped, her free hand flying up to her mouth and her eyes turning back to the feathers. Lou looked over her shoulder, his eyebrows shooting up; he whistled low, impressed. “Do…do you think it’s true?” Lisa asked, her voice hushed. “Do you think they were…?”

“I don’t know,” came the honest reply, but his voice was thoughtful. “But I _do_ know Aslan is real.”

Her brow furrowed and she looked up at him, letting him see her confusion. He chuckled, a sound she was beginning to truly cherish, though she’d never let him know. He deserved so much better, especially now that she was damaged goods.

“We saw Him once,” Lou confided. “He saved our lives. Saved Sarge’s soul, too.” He turned towards the door. “Come on, let’s take a walk and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Lisa looked down at the letter still in her hands. “Lou? Can we walk to the corner, towards the second star on the right?”

Another low chuckle. “The gateway, right?” She nodded. “Sure thing, Lis.”

She bit her lip. “And…?” When she didn’t finish, he looked back at her, cocking his head to the side. “Could you…write my brother Alex for me?”

His smile was broad and delighted. “Never thought you’d ask, girl.”

The Heir to the House of Amesbury smiled back, tentative, but slowly regaining her former grace and confidence. Her knight reached out his hand and she stepped forward, taking it with a tiny bob of her head. Then they left, Lewis closing the door behind him.

In the darkness, the feathers seemed to shimmer on the desk. Two figures glanced at each other, nodding approval at the beginning they’d wrought. It would take time and effort, but so did everything worthwhile.

Outside, the wind swirled, carrying some of the first leaves of spring through the sign on the building’s roof, highlighting the red paint of the written words. The fledgling couple stepped out the door, laughter rising as the man guided his frailer companion down the street towards the gateway.

As they walked away, the sign on the door changed: _Last Chance Diner reopening in one week under new management_.

_~ Fin_

[1] Hebrews 13:2 King James Version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fade to black... I hope everyone enjoyed this story which was a bit different from my usual fare. Particularly the Passage of Time chapter, where we saw snippets of several events, both from canon and from my stories. As always, I adore comments and am much obliged by those willing to spare a bit of extra time to let me know what they thought of our latest installment.
> 
> But time marches on and our next story awaits. "Simon Says" will kick off Friday, November 22nd, 2019.
> 
> See you on the Battlefield!


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